


Off the Opal Coast

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, And she's the BEST, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Confusion in General, Crack Treated Seriously, Hannibal the Emotional Cannibal, Implied Mpreg, Inappropriate Humor, Lots of Dogs and Animals, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mischa Lives, Nice Hannibal? Oh boy here we go, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Will, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow burn for a while but we get there Quickly, Some Angst because it happened I'm so sorry, There Will be Crying and an actual Plot, We woke up Married holy jesus on a pogostick, Will You get your Shit Together, Will is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:58:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6454786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After falling, Will Graham waited for death in Hannibal's arms, but did not expect to find himself suddenly on a bed with him. Call it fate or not, it seem's death wasn't their true ending, but the start of something both weren't aware of. Like being married and having new concepts on society.</p><p>As luck would have it, it seems they were given new beginnings. </p><p>(A/B/O Verse for us sinners)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out with an Atlantic Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> That's it, I finally admitted to myself that I can write A/B/O. My dudes, I'm doomed. Officially doomed. This fic here was born by my guilty love for this darn AU. I always loved fics where a character is suddenly in another universe and I often find them hilarious, so here's my try. Be kind, please.
> 
> Update: I moved all my Biology Rantings to a separate place cause big summaries aren't that noice.
> 
> Good reading! And remember, fanfiction writers such as me have no idea what they're doing.

 

 

He remembered falling, feeling the wind push through him and shriek in his ears — Numbing his mind and letting him loose grip of reality. Nothing else mattered as he could only feel strong arms around him, holding him to a sturdy chest, as they fell of the Atlantic Ocean for an upcoming death; A sweet release of the world, together as if it was meant to be. To die with Hannibal was apparently his fate and he embraced it, letting his affection for him, his constant _ache_ for him cloud his thoughts. He clutched Hannibal closer, and waited. 

...And waited. Until he didn't feel like he was falling from a cliff anymore, nor bleeding from his stab wounds, but laying on a soft bed and listening to a steady heartbeat. Strong arms still hugged him close and his head was still cradled by the same chest, warm and solid. A calming, musky scent also filled his lungs, surprisingly enticing. Will didn't dare open his eyes for a few moments, rummaging through his confused thoughts. Apparently death was as painless and comfortable as some thought. But did he truly die? There was no way a fall from a cliff ended in a rather cozy bed. He opened his eyes to check if the owner of the strong limbs was still Hannibal, and he was met with the same confusion he felt written all over the doctor's face. None dared to move nor speak between the few timeless seconds, feeling an alien awkwardness fill the room. Hannibal's eyes scanned rapidly their surroundings and Will's nonexistent stab injuries, before checking his own abdomen and the empath's eyes again. Will chewed on his tongue for a bit, still trying to make sense of the current situation they were in, and listened to Hannibal take in a small breath. Finally, the doctor spoke, his voice rough and accent thick. 

"This is unexpected."

Will cocked his head in agreement, averting his eyes from Hannibal and examining the bedroom they were currently in. The furniture and plain decor style was a mix between modern and rustic, quite charming and expensive looking, but modest. Will also noticed a dark brown furry lump over their sheet covered feet, wheezing quietly and clearly smelling of dog. 

"There is a dog on the bed," Will blurted out. Hannibal quickly looked at the sleeping animal and then back to Will, not impressed by the ex-profiler's priorities. Despite his confusion, Hannibal didn't bother to hide it with a poker face. He looked bare and confused as Will.

"If this is what life beyond death is," Hannibal exhaled, smiling lightly. "I'm glad I'd have the honor to stand next to you, Will. But I'm afraid this feels too... Alive for such thing."

"We're not dead, then," Will said, still wrapped around Hannibal's arms. "This — Nothing is making any sense." 

"A fall from a cliff leading us to a bed?" 

Will scoffed. "We should have died. This isn't death, this can't be death. This can't be happening."

Hannibal chewed on his lip."Seems like even death rejected us." 

"But we should be dead; There's no way we just suddenly popped here on a bed with a dog," Will sighed, closing his fists on Hannibal's cotton shirt. He felt angry at whatever  _thing_  had done this to them, but at the same time relieved. Will didn't remember the last time he's been so comfortable in someone's arms. 

"Even death cannot stop you, even jumping out off a cliff with you. I guess it can't stop myself either." He murmured on Hannibal's chest, feeling emotionally tired. His last attempt to erase the world of their darkness failed. Fate must be a bitch then; If this was to happen, so let it happen. Will didn't want to fight anymore, after feeling the dragon's blood on his body. At least he wasn't without Hannibal in this rather  _delicate_  situation.

"I can't believe this is fucking happening," Will rubbed his eyes, as if he'd shake himself awake by doing that. "Is this happening to you too or I'm just hallucinating in limbo?" 

"I can assure you you're not alone, Will." Hannibal spoke after a few seconds. "Whatever is happening at the moment is by far the most unexpected event I've ever got myself into." 

"Oh god, this  _is_  really happening." The ex-profiler let his head plop on a pillow, staring at the ceiling. "And there is a dog on the bed," He stated. 

Hannibal slowly nodded, staring into nothing like he was trying to find words to say. Both had been preparing themselves for death, expecting it, and suddenly the tables had turned and they inexplicably healed from their wounds. They'd been so sure they'd die the whole situation was a reality shock. It just didn't made any goddamn  _sense_. 

Will somehow felt anxious because if they were _officially_ alive, that meant Hannibal would want answers for the sudden cliff jump. Knowing Hannibal, Will knew the man would want to squeeze every last bit of truth from him and make Will participate in a 'deep conversation' full of mind riddles and self confrontation he'd normally have with the doctor. But right now both were too dazed to do such things, and Will somehow knew Hannibal probably understood why he'd done that. Planning for something so grateful — Death in his arms with an Atlantic Funeral — and have it shattered so suddenly wasn't a good feeling. In fact, he wasn't ready to confront his feelings at all. 

They shared a few more moments in plain silence, feeling the cogs in their heads slowly process the situation they were in. Hannibal took a deep breath, his arms still full of Will.

"We don't know where we are. Who this house belongs to. If this is really happening, the we must face what's out there and the reality we are facing. We have to check if the area is safe for now, Will," Hannibal suggested, losing his arms off of Will. 

"Yeah, we should. Just be careful not to wake the dog," The ex-profiler answered, not even bothering to think how Hannibal came to an conclusion that he'd stay with him. He wasn't wrong, but he'd let that go for now. Both silently got up from the bed with carefulness, observing the sleeping dog for any signs of waking up, and stretched their limbs when they were on foot. Will noticed he was wearing a soft looking shorts he'd never owned before, and no shirt, while Hannibal had a cotton shirt on and some sweatpants. Not wanting to go out of the room without a shirt, Will went to the wardrobe, hopeful of finding a fitting one. He somehow didn't expect the blatant lingering looks coming from Hannibal.

"Is something wrong?" Will frowned at the doctor, starting to feel embarrassed by Hannibal's looks. Hannibal was almost  _gaping_  at him, and that wasn't something Will often experienced. 

Hannibal seemed to startle by Will's sudden questioning, and quickly closed his slightly agape mouth. His eyes were still glued on Will's body, for Will's dismay. There was something  _odd_  about his gaze, their situation aside. 

"My apologies, Will. But I —  Your body is... Different." 

In all of Will's life, he'd never seen Hannibal Lecter stutter. He frowned at the sudden topic of how in hell his body was different. 

"What about it?" Will asked. He swore he could see Hannibal dry swallowing. 

"You should take a look at it for yourself, Will. " Hannibal pointed towards a wall mirror close to what seemed to be a slide door, and Will, getting curious himself about what was so special about his body, walked towards it.

He wasn't expecting what he was met with. 

His whole body was different, even his own goddamn face. Instead of his sturdy shoulders, he was met with a slightly smaller ones, all covered with light freckles and soft, unblemished pale skin without the many scars he gained through his years. His hips weren't narrowed anymore, but wider looking with a curvier format. His waist also seemed curvier and softer, not too soft but lacking some bulk. He was still rugged looking, with slight muscle, but every single bit of his body seemed to be softer and less worn out, reminding him of the body he had when he was a young adult. His legs were also longer looking and his face looked like it received a invigorating treatment for a week in an expensive spa. No more scars, no more lines causes by stress, but now a face matching the unblemished skin of his body with a healthy pink over his cheeks, a thinner looking beard and brown curls looking like they weren't neglected that often. He looked like he just turned 26 again. 

"What the actual fuck," He touched his face, feeling a foreign smoothness there, and his waist, soft to the touch, like he wasn't in his own body anymore. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief, still frowning at his own reflection.

"Why the fuck do I look like I'm twenty fucking six now?" He whispered in disbelief. First he supposedly avoided death by magically appearing on a bed with Hannibal, and now _this_. Will started to doubt if he was truly awake or not. If God or whatever thing was literally playing with them. He took in a deep breath to calm himself, and not wake the dog and let what was out there know they're here.

Hannibal, in the other hand, looked speechless. Will immediately noticed his nostrils flaring, scenting the air in disbelief. Will raised his eyebrows.

"Hannibal?" The ex-profiler tried to hide his preoccupation, but he'd never seen Hannibal react to _anything_ like this. He took a step closer to the doctor, feeling anxiousness seep through him. Hannibal seemed to take some sharp breaths in, hand still covering his mouth, and Will swore he just heard Hannibal _growl_.

"I'm sorry Will, just give me a moment." The doctor shuddered. That wasn't a good sign even by his own fucking standards.

"There's clearly something wrong, Hannibal. I'm not blind." Will crossed his arms. "I know there's a lot of things going on right now but we can't stand here. We need answers for what's going on." He'd never thought one day he would come to help Hannibal get a grip on himself.

Role-reversals, at its finest.

  
"Nothing is wrong, William." Hannibal finally answered firmly. The ex-profiler sighed.

"Don't lie to me. You're _shaking_ , Hannibal. I had encephalitis and I know well enough that hiding is not a good choice. You know it too." As much as he hated it, he wouldn't dare treat Hannibal like an asshole after everything that happened today. Before he could speak again, Hannibal spoke.

"Will, I'm fine. It's your... smell." He sniffed the air again. "I can't explain what it is doing to me."

Will was used to Hannibal's _oddities_ , even the most difficult ones to get a grasp on, but he couldn't help a frown form in his face after Hannibal for the countless time smelled him. And by that information, his current smell apparently had physical effects on the doctor.

 "My... smell?"  He asked slowly, his frowning growing by the second. "First my body, now my _smell_? What the fuck?!"

"Something changed. We changed, Will." Hannibal let out a shaky breath, and passed his hands through his hair. "I've no clue what could've possibly be, but you're right. We have to find information of where we currently are."

"Alright." Will noticed his grip on his own arms didn't frail. "Let me just — Let me get a shirt and we can sort this out."

* * *

 

Checking the house hadn't been difficult. Both Will and Hannibal were careful with their steps as they examined the area. The house interior was beautiful as the previous room; A mix between a Mediterranean style of decor with a few ' _cabin in the woods'_ touches, as Will would say —  Keeping the place between a rustic, refined appearance and a modern, American one.  They didn't take too long to find out at least five dogs of various shapes and sizes sleeping in the large living room, and two cats roaming around the porch. Whoever was living in this house had Will's animal hoarding seal of approval. Not long after Hannibal checked if the — considerably one of the most elegant ones he'd ever seen — Kitchen, Will found shelves full of the answers they were seeking. He not only found various photo frames, but every single one of them having a picture of he or Hannibal. Or both of them, together. Holding hands, kissing, smiling and _marrying_. The marriage one was the biggest; It took over a whole shelf and stood proud with a silver frame and showing Will and Hannibal holding their ringed hands to the camera and giving each other the most intense wedding kiss Will had ever seen.

"Oh my god," He felt his face flush. He didn't even remember looking _that happy_ while marrying Molly. He also didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his belly. Just the thought of being married to Hannibal, to actually give in to his long hidden ache for the man had Will blushing wildly. His knees also felt wobbly and weak, and his head light.

He was married to Hannibal here. They were lovers, _husbands_ , who according to those photos were happily married to each other. He couldn't believe his own eyes — He'd never seen himself so happy in a picture before. He could feel the affection radiating from it so much he found himself backing away from the shelves, wide eyed.

If he was married to Hannibal, that meant this house belonged to them. Those animals were theirs. That dog on the bed was _theirs_.

"Will?" He heard the familiar accented voice come from behind him, and he swore quietly. He tried to lock his eyes with the doctor, but it was too late. Hannibal's eyes were already glued on the pictures. Will's cheeks became even redder watching those brown eyes fill with various emotions.

"I think... this house is ours." Will meekly stated, hoping that Hannibal wouldn't be speechless for too long. If things weren't awkward before — _They were_ — Now it was the time to be. Hannibal opened his mouth, only letting air go out, and kept staring at the big one; The marriage one, of course. Whatever was playing with them managed to get them married. The band on his finger's wasn't from Molly's, but _Hannibal's_. Will didn't even know how to react to the sudden news, aware of the doctor's feelings for him. He swore he could hear Bedelia's sharp laughter echo through his ears.

"Will —"

"It's okay, Hannibal." It wasn't. "We uh, well... This could also count as a unexpected thing that happened this day."

"We are married," Hannibal repeated, keeping his eyes on the pictures in disbelief. Will didn't expect to have any situation like this along with Hannibal so he couldn't even retort. They just stared at the pictures, letting it sink in. Pictures of a happy, married life. No pain, no distrust, just the two of them showering each other with affection; A rare feeling in their relationship. If their becoming and fall lead to a picture of a life they'd never have, both didn't expect it. Will closed his eyes, taking the truth in.

They weren't their old selves anymore. He wasn't even sure where they were.

"I guess we could say that fall did truly rebirth us." Hannibal's voice was quiet, and thick with emotion. Will knew why.

"I guess." Will sighed. Fate or not, both being married and sharing a house with each other after killing Dolarhyde wasn't the most believable situation. Will still doubted if he was just in a coma, creating all of this is his mind.

"Our becoming has lead us to something I imagined myself having three years ago. What do you feel about that, Will?" Hannibal asked, always calculating, always _curious_. Will let himself fidget.

"Bedelia told me you were in love with me a while back. I don't find myself completely taken back, Hannibal."

Hannibal hummed. "But here we are, probably sharing a house and a bedroom together, married. What about your wife, Will? What about your own life?"

"I knew for the very moment Dolarhyde attacked her that our marriage wouldn't be the same. I knew It... It wouldn't last." He hated himself for admitting it. Molly deserved _so much better_. "What am I going to do with it, anyway? I thought I'd be dead by now, Hannibal. But here I am with a different body, married to you, and doubting if this is still truly happening."

"I have my own doubts too, but apparently you aren't the only one in this coma." Hannibal smiled, finally taking his eyes from the photos and locking them on Will's. Will wasn't prepared to see such raw emotions coming from Hannibal Lecter, ever. He stepped closer to the doctor, suddenly aware of a certain height difference between them, and let his eyes trail from the man's eyes to his lips. Before seeing those photos; He'd never imagined locking his own lips with those sharp, plump ones. Just to feel the joy his photo-self felt while kissing Hannibal made his stomach flutter.

The thought suddenly shied away when both heard a cell phone ring from the bedroom, and Will stared at Hannibal in a unspoken way to show his worry. They were still their own selves, but whatever happened in this... Life wasn't expected for both. For starters, Will looked like he just graduated college. And no scars were visible on both men. There was no way to know if their lives still had the same meaning here. Will took a deep breath after Hannibal finally decided to look at the caller's ID, keeping his arms tight together.

He didn't expect to see a bold MISCHA LECTER written on the buzzing phone.


	2. Divenire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will find out some truths. They don't know who's taking it worse. 
> 
> And Mischa is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is Wednesday, my dudes! *screams* Holy crap, this is one of the hardest chapters I've ever written in my whole life. I had to rewrite it twice, and I'm not THAT happy about how it turned out. This is a humorous story but there's no way I can keep angst out of this, I'm so sorry. Hannibal is also a hard character to write too, but I guess this whole story is just both of them going bananas, right? Well then, let us appreciate this chapter. 
> 
> To let you guys know, there's a tiny (and I say TINY) amount of explicit scenery down there; That being attempt at fingering. I wanted to keep this spoiler free, but I'll let you guys be warned. Also, Mischa. *rubs hands together*
> 
> Good reading!

 

Will could hear dogs whining against the bedroom door, but he could barely focus on them. His body seemed to have frozen in spot, not a single muscle moving, completely stunned by again one of the most unexpected events to happen in this rather _peculiar_ day.  Hannibal had also stopped completely on his tracks, looking horrifyingly still. The ex-profiler peeked at the doctor, unconsciously holding his breath. He could only catch small glimpses of narrowing eyes and twitching hands, but nothing could hide the fact that Hannibal's face lacked color. Besides that, he looked _calm_. Will's skin crawled in Goosebumps.

He tried to open his mouth, call Hannibal from his suddenly dry lips, but instead he observed — Feeling like an uninvited guest watching a predator in its most vulnerable state, not wanting to come near it, knowing too well he needed to wait. The silence grew deafening around them even with the sharp, inpatient buzzing of the phone, glowing a name Will swore he'd never see again. After what seemed to be longest seconds of his life, Will watched Hannibal calmly approach the phone and unlock the screen, resting it on his ear and speaking with a firm tone in his voice.

"Hannibal speaking."

Loud noises instantly filled the room from the tiny speakers of the phone, almost making Hannibal loose grip on the device. Will watched his face break into a displeased frown, to rapidly grow void of expression as soon as the ex-profiler heard a small hint of a young, eager voice muffle some of the background noise and catch their hearts in their throats.

"Oh, hello, Mischa." Will never heard Hannibal's voice sound so _tight_. "Of... Course. I'm sorry, let me pass the phone to him." Hannibal's eyes snapped at him, dangerously blank of any emotion, and before Will could protest why would Hannibal's deceased sister would want to speak to him, the phone was smashed to his ear. Panic quickly overwhelmed his mind as the same sweet voice from earlier shouted something to the background noise, followed by some fumbling and the distinct sound of screaming children.

" _Can you shush Hattie for a bit, Sammy? She's louder than a mandrake today! And don't let her throw_ — _Ah, **Blet** , Samuel!"_

"Hello...?" Will honestly never thought he'd hear Hannibal's accent from a feminine voice before, and not by any means hear the actual _Mischa Lecter_ call someone, probably a child, a mandrake. Still waiting for an answer, Will heard more fumbling and someone yell back, probably the Samuel fellow. Mischa, surprisingly, answered back with less noise disturbing her talk with Will.

" _Hey Will! I'm sorry for taking too long, apparently Hattie watched Star Wars this week and she wanted to master the force, so she spent the whole morning throwing things at me and Sam — You'd never guess how strong that little thing is. And dangerous too, she tried to force choke Sam a few minutes ago."_ The women on the line lets out a shaky giggle. " _Okay, enough about Hattie — I can't believe you still let my brother mess through your phone. He at least sounded like someone kicked his balls, so I'm going to pretend you taught him his lesson."_

Will tried to answer quickly as Mischa talked, but just to hear someone, and that someone apparently being Hannibal's dead sister say he should have kicked her brother's balls for being _nosy_ literally made Will let out a snort. He desperately tried not to look at Hannibal, who stood behind him doing God knows what. Mischa laughed back after hearing Will's apparent amusement.

" _So you DID kick his balls? He also sounds like he is trying to hold a fart, but we all know he doesn't do that_."

 "Yeah." Will couldn't hold a small laughter seep through his lips, but quickly swallowed it up after remembering he was speaking to a deceased woman. It was _fucking ridiculous_.

" _So, Hanni aside, did you get your invitation copies? I'm totally going bananas here with all the rehearsals so I'm not sure if I properly sent them or not, and if by karma my email is still not cooperating with me I can smuggle them to your house after Sam hands Hattie to her mom. Or tomorrow, if you want to! Hanni is hosting one of his fancy family lunches again, right?"_

"Uh, sure, I mean..." Will couldn't find any words to say. He tried to chew on some information, picking up some names, but that proved to be utterly useless at the moment. Biting his lip, he thought of something, _anything_ to say and not let the situation get worse. His eyes frantically searched Hannibal's seeking for help, only to be met with the doctors hands covering his own face. Will tried not to swear out loud.

" _Will? Are you still there?"_

"Ah, yeah, Mischa! Just — I was just checking on my dogs." Will nervously laughed. "I didn't check my email yet, but I'll call you if it's there. And I'm not sure Hannibal is hosting any family lunches tomorrow, I uh, I'll also call you back to confirm it." So far so good. Will didn't know if he could survive this phone call any longer.

" _Uh... Okay_?" He heard her voice hum in thought. " _Will, are you alright? You also sound a little bit... off_."

Will wished he'd died in that stupid fall.

"Yeah, I'm okay! Just feeling a bit under the weather, you know. But it's nothing to worry about."

" _You sure? Look, after Hattie's mom picks her up, and Sam goes back to work, I'll have like... One hour of  free time? If you want me pop in your house for some company or a nice chat  I'm right here. And I kinda don't want to spend this whole time here in my flat, mainly because I'll probably end up wasting my time watching Netflix."_ Mischa's voice was sweet and gentle, almost soothing — Specially with the exotic tint of her Lithuanian accent, and Will could notice this is a trait she shares with her brother. For a brief moment he wondered if she also has a monster within her, or if she shares much more traits with Hannibal than Will could possibly think, but his dark thoughts instantly vanishes when he saw the doctor's eyes piercing him; Making him cower.

Hannibal wanted Will to leave her out of this.

He shivered then; Feeling those eyes skin him alive with no remorse, no _compassion_ , and Will realized how this day changed tables completely for both of their sides. Hannibal wouldn't toy with what he considered one of his only worth's; He wouldn't let any droplet of blood corrupt her precious skin. His empathy lets him see it, lets him feel it — Mixed emotions causing turmoil in his so intricate brain, letting his long buried ache to see Mischa for the last time mess with his already vulnerable mind; Just to see her, and feel her arms around him. And Will could feel his hate for it, for letting her grave open, such _offense_ for her memory, but now there's no corpse, she's not within him anymore. This is not Abigail, not a substitute, not a toy for his amusement. This is _his_ Mischa, the only person that ever mattered; His little sister, always curious and full of life, and she's probably a grown woman like it was meant to be, and not buried in his mind, not a memory to be fond of.

She's alive and Hannibal is _terrified_.

This different reality they ended up in, it somehow accomplished  Hannibal's deepest, most denied wishes. He was taken back by the doctors self flagellation currently happening within him; To see a man like Hannibal Lecter have his whole life thrown into a blender in such ridiculously _short_ time. His own life was also in shambles, and Will knew whatever happens next would not be easy for both men.

Now they're married, owners of a few animals and a beautiful house, and living in a world where Mischa Lecter was apparently alive and grown up. And if Mischa was alive, that probably meant Hannibal wasn't a cannibal in whatever reality this was and possibly not a murderer. And neither was Will. Also, his body was different. It just didn't make any _sense_.

" _Will? Hello? Will?"_ Mischa sounded preoccupied by now, totally not aware she just made two grown men have an existential crisis. Will regained his voice back within seconds, trying to hide any tremors in it.

"Shit, I'm so sorry! Hannibal called me from the kitchen and — I'm sorry, Mischa. Yeah, I'll check with your brother if we are free at the moment, no worries. I'll call you back okay?" Will prayed she'd understand he had to hang up now.

" _Alright... I'll wait for your call, okay?"_ Will noticed her voice became hesitant. " _And uh, tell Hannibal I'm sorry for kinda called him nosy, I know he doesn't mean it. Just give him a kiss on the cheek and say it's from me. Also, if I end up there, we can have a omega to omega talk, alright? See you!"_

"Of course. See you later, Mischa." After the call is ended, Will let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. His hand is drenched in sweat, and he felt like he just ran a mile. Whatever he'd been expecting from having a conversation with Mischa Lecter wasn't _this_. Besides unknown names, Mischa mentioned something about ' _omega to omega talk'_. His mind was too tired to let that bother him. Laying down the phone and running a hand through his curls, Will finally turned his body to Hannibal. The doctor was blank of emotion, but he looked tired. Will remembered seeing the same expression three years ago, when his betrayal led the man to gut him in his kitchen, and leave him bleeding on the floor with who he considered their daughter. An violent take after having his trust crushed by a loved one, hurting both of them equally. He looked so tired and perfectly fine at the same time, and Will dreaded it. He felt an urge to approach him, and tell him he's here for him, and he's not alone. But his legs wouldn't move, and he watched Hannibal finally let out a weak sigh after some minutes in silence. When their eyes met, Will felt his heart flutter.

Hannibal spoke after a moment, a weak smile teasing his lips.

"What did she tell you?"

Will bit his lips in thought, trying to choose where to start. He felt sorry for Hannibal. Mischa barely even talked to him. But he already _knew_  that's her, and Will could tell why.

"She is quite talkative, I have to say." He smiled back at Hannibal. It was quite a bittersweet one, but it was worth it. "Well, She first mentioned she was rehearsing for something, and called us to see if our invitations were on my email. And then she went on about not wanting to spend one full hour stuck in her place, so she... I told her I'd call back to see if she can come."

Hannibal slowly nodded, his eyes unfocused. Will dry swallowed.

"Anything else?"

The ex-profiler resumed to bite his lips. "She also told me she's sorry for calling you 'nosy'. She, uh — She sent you a kiss." There's no way in hell Will would kiss Hannibal's cheek right now. Just the thought of doing such _thing_ made his face burn. They had a sort of intimate relationship, but not like this. They were _not_ lovers. Will never wished for that, he barely even _thought_ about it until Bedelia. And yet here he was, probably married to the man he tried so hard to hate and forgive, after he'd sworn to Molly he never felt this way for Hannibal. But now there's no Molly, no cliff falls, no Bedelia, no lies  — Nothing. It's just him and his ugly, long hidden feelings for Hannibal Lecter. Will wished he'd died with Hannibal for the countless time, because there's no fucking way he'd find courage to confront his feelings for him _again_.

And of course Hannibal noticed his rapidly reddening face.

"She asked you to kiss me on my cheek, didn't she?" Will opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it when he saw Hannibal's eyes stare so lovingly at him. The ex-profiler wanted to hate them so badly.

"She... She did."

The doctor smiled, mostly to himself.

"Once she told me that's the easiest way to make me smile. Mischa has always been very protective of me, specially my happiness. Such a clever girl." Hannibal let his voice wander, still smiling; A genuine smile Will rarely saw in all his years knowing the man. Will felt out of place; trespassing a barrier he never thought he'd get in. He's seeing a part of Hannibal he swore the doctor had destroyed long ago  — His humanity. Hannibal was a man of many person suits, capable of making lives fall apart for his own amusement; And yet he was able to feel love, and the love he felt for Mischa and Will was perhaps the only fragment of humanity he had left.

When Will finally thought he understood Hannibal Lecter, he was always surprised to see he may not know everything at all. He's not emotionless, he wasn't heartless. He wasn't a monster in a human body. He was a man who knew the monster was part of him.

And he ached so badly for him.

"What will happen now?" Will asked, feeling his heart flutter. There's still many questions to be answered and many were scaring the shit out of him. Hannibal shrugged. He knew they'd have to answer Mischa soon, and before that they'd need to know more about this current life they were in. Will thought of telling the truth to Mischa, and let her help, but he knew that is a really improbable idea. And he doubt if telling her they're two murderers would help anyone.

He looked at Hannibal in search for help, and instead finds the man deep in thought. After some silent moments, Hannibal turned his head to Will.

"We could search for our documents or any personal belongings to find out basic information about our... new selves. But no doubt Mischa will be the first one to be suspicious about our situation. She's going to find out, one way or another."

"And how do you feel about that?" Will quietly asked. He also feared whatever answer Hannibal would give.

"Reluctant. Even ashamed. I've never thought I'd see her again, Will. For long she has been just a memory and  now I find myself... Scared of what I will encounter." Hannibal Lecter, the Chesapeake Ripper, just admitted he was _scared_. He was right, every single moment after the fall had been full of surprises. Will hoped all of them were out of the box by now, because he didn't know if he could handle any others.

"She can help us if we tell her we just forgot our wholes lives. Or not. God, this is getting way more complicated than it should be..." He groaned, and let his fingers mess his curls. He didn't even want to keep his self composed mask for Hannibal anymore. In fact, never had been a bed so enticing to Will. And the dog was still sleeping. _Uh._

"Or we could let time choose whatever is the best option. First we find out who we really are here, Will." If Will didn't know Hannibal so well, he'd say the doctor was avoiding telling his sister to come in for a visit.

"Are you scared of seeing her?" Will couldn't believe it. He gave a judging look to the doctor and promptly plopped on the bed. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Hannibal, trying to hide his incredulous expression, crossed his arms. Will wanted to yell at him to just to stop acting as if they weren't _fucked_ already.

"That was very rude, Will." He gritted out, frowning at the ex-profiler. "I simply want to give priority to our identities first, and then we'll deal with  —"

"So you're scared, then."

Hannibal gaped.

"William, do not twist my words for your own liking. Can't you see it is essential to know more about ourselves first and later on sort through this mess? Of course you don't, you're petting the dog while I'm the one thinking clearly here."

"What the heck do you mean 'thinking clearly'? Hannibal, everything is not making any sense! Why don't you see that this  — This _thing_ that is happening to us is all bullshit? I should be dead, we should be dead, and every single second that passes now is just... revealing some absurd shit." He shouldn't be so bitchy about Hannibal's logical fear of seeing his long dead sister, but everything was just getting _worse_. The dog let out a yawn, and Will kept lazily petting it so he at least felt a bit of normalcy lull him to a better mood.  Hannibal, in the other hand, looked like he caught someone spitting on his kitchen table.

"If you want to stay in denial with that dog and not help, Will, I'll do it by myself. Stop acting like a petulant child." Hannibal snapped.

"Yeah, right, remember to search in your ass too. Hopefully you'll get that right."

" _Excuse me_?" If Will didn't piss Hannibal off by then, he probably hit the spot now.

"You got it, Hannibal. Stop being a pretentious asshole and face it, we are fucked! There's no way we are making out of this in one piece."

  _And_ he just went too far.

"Shit, I'm sorry Hannibal... I just  — I'm overwhelmed by all of this, and you're... You're right. We have to focus on knowing ourselves first." He felt tired, physically and mentally. Hannibal nodded after he was done staring at Will's obvious worn out face, now covered in a thin layer of sweat. He also caught the man discreetly sniffing the air.

"Are you smelling me again?" The ex-profiler groaned in displeasure, not fond of Hannibal's odd way to tell him something was wrong. Hannibal stopped then, and Will was honestly surprised to see his anger quickly dissolve into worry.

"Will, are you feeling fine? Your scent changed."

Will tried not to frown. This is too _early_ to happen again.

"As I said, I'm overwhelmed, Hannibal. And when I'm overwhelmed I start to sweat and _you_ know that. Now can you  — Can you hurry up and find our documents, please? I need a moment here." He knew Hannibal was the one that needed a _moment_ after everything he'd gone through. But he hadn't felt this cranky in ages. So he just waves Hannibal off, watching the man fumble through their closet in search of any information they could find. He could catch glimpses of clothes he'd probably wear and three piece suits carefully wrapped in transparent plastic, all neatly arranged the same way Hannibal's belonging were. The dog on the bed to him curls his body between the silent moments, so Will could easily see his collar spelling TIMOTHY on a small plate. He also realized his fellow friend is very old and probably sleeps the whole day because of his tender age. _So we let him sleep with us_  — the ex-profiler concluded. He smiled then, ignoring his cranky mood, because even if he didn't know himself here, he still felt like some things did never change.

Minutes went by, until Hannibal returned to the bed with various papers and files, and both their phones. Settling them down on the white sheets, the doctor then contemplates his successful hunt. Will tried to smile.

"So... What do we have here?" He asked from his laying position, still petting the dog to sleep. Hannibal uncrossed his arms and spread some papers to the bed.

"Passports, Birth certificates, Marriage documents, medical assignments, almost everything we need to know. The phones can also help us know who are our current contacts and where we are. Photos will prove to be useful." The doctor picked up his identity copy from the pile. "I still haven't read any of them  — Some of them are yours and that'd be awfully rude." He gave Will a smile. _Tell that to me three years ago._

"Alright... So, let's begin."

Will picked up the first one he sees with his name  — a copy of his ID — and tried to find anything peculiar. Not long he finds a word he'd almost forgot, bold letters and all. _Omega_. It's filled under SEX, right next to GENDER and NAME. The ex-profiler knew this was a Greek word or number, but what did it have to do with his ID or his sex, he'd no idea. Whatever that was, Mischa mentioned it.

He tried to ignore those bold letters at his best, but he kept seeing that _word_ again. Omega _this_ , Omega _that_. It barely calls him by his gender. Growing annoyed, he tossed the paper back in the pile. Again, he was right. This day got weirder by the second.

"Did you find something strange on your papers, doctor?" Will questioned, scrolling through the papers with his fingers. Hannibal put his paper down.

"Presumably, yes. Nothing is too different, no, but I'm afraid my sex I'm denominated as _Alpha_ instead of male anymore." The doctor was frowning, which by Will's standards was not a good thing.

"So you're not the only one being called a different thing." Will confirms it. Hugging his knees, he heard Hannibal sigh with a heavy heart. The doctor instead of answering fished another paper from the pile and handed it to Will. He read  _'Medical Records'_ after giving Hannibal a puzzled look.

"See if you can find anything about these... New concepts, Will. I'll check mine." Will weakly nodded, brushing some sweat out of his temple. The room wasn't supposed to be this _warm_. He dismissed his thoughts quickly when he read something about _'Oestrus Cycle'_ along his fucking medical check-up.

 "What the fuck?!" He immediately dropped the medical chart and stared at a gobsmacked Hannibal. Clearly he read something odd on his one too.

"What does yours say?" Hannibal asked after he regained his voice, still glancing at the papers suspiciously. Will tried to breathe before letting his mind frenzy.

"Something about fucking Oestrus cycles and other weird shit like that. Hannibal, what is going on?!"

"Will, calm down, you're... You're flooding this room with your scent like that."

Will swore loudly, even waking poor Timothy.

"What the fuck?  Now this is fucking bullshit, Hannibal! If there's something wrong with smells, they're all coming from you! You fucking stink like  — Like..." He tried to find any words to describe that smell, but that turned out to be hopeless. There wasn't any words to explain how weird, and dangerously _enticing_ , Hannibal smelled right now. "Just shut up, okay? This is not happening!"

"Will, calm down! Please, sit down, you're clearly not okay."

"No, I'm not fucking okay with you telling me I'm not okay! There's nothing wrong with me, what clearly is wrong is that fucking _Omega_ word written all over my documents! First I had to cope with not dying, now us being married and your sister back from the dead, and now  — _Oh my god."_

Something was wrong. Definitely _wrong._

"...Will?" He heard Hannibal call. His head throbbed by the beat of his heart. He squeezed his legs tight, _horrified_ to feel something leak out of his body to his pants. Hannibal called him again when his legs suddenly guided him to the very first bathroom he could find. Shutting the door with what was left of his strength, Will didn't take time to get inside the shower box and yank his pants down. His fingers instantly did their work of inspecting whatever was _wrong_ down there, and what he touched left him frozen on his spot.

_Definitely Wrong._

"Will, I'll come in if you don't answer me right now!" Hannibal's voice sounded as distant as he felt from reality right now. He took his fingers out, and inspected the fluid on them. He was wet. He was _fucking wet._ Will felt faint.

"Will, what's happening  — _O Dieve."_

_He is fucking wet and Hannibal just saw him with his fingers up on whatever happened down there._

Slowly turning his eyes to the doctor, and desperately trying not to scream, Will wished he'd died on that cliff for the countless time.

"Please tell me this is not real."

Hannibal didn't answer.

Will closed his eyes in defeat.

"Will, please tell me what's wrong."

_The nerve this fucking cannibal has._

"Everything."

"Will  —"

"Why don't you see it for yourself?" He regretted saying that the moment the words left him. But suddenly the thought of Hannibal, with his enticing scent and long fingers, caressing him _down there_ made it to his mind. He should've been shocked beyond imagination, but instead it aroused him fervently just to have Hannibal right there, where he needed so much, and finally _giving in to him_.

 Completely ignoring his rational part of his brain screaming what the fuck was he going to _do_ , he grabbed Hannibal's hands with shaky fingers and lead them to his wet, touch starved folds. He canted his hips a little bit higher when Hannibal's fingers were finally there, touching him, and _oh my god just touching it felt amazing, wonder if he got one of those fingers inside,_ _just to brush this emptiness off of him..._

Suddenly the fingers disappeared and Will realized what he had just done. His back found the shower's cold tiles and he cursed when he met Hannibal's wide eyes, and rather obvious erection outlining his sweatpants. His own erection was quite obvious too with his lack of pants, and _god_ he felt utterly embarrassed. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"I  — I'm so sorry Hannibal, I just, _I don't know what's happening to me_." Will wasn't surprised to see his vision blurring with tears; He felt lost, goddammit, and whatever happened to his body and his whole life was scaring the fuck out of him. He hated himself when Hannibal's arms wrapped around him and cradled him close  — Much like their fall to the Atlantic together  — And he found the comfort he needs in it. He let himself sob on the doctors chest, while being rocked back and forth.

He wanted to die. God, he wished he'd be dead already.

Meanwhile, Hannibal whispered nothings to his curls, holding Will close, and by the time Will stops sobbing the doctor had already led them to the bedroom, and wrapped the ex-profiler in a blanket. Will stayed put on the bed with Timothy by his side while Hannibal read the rest of the papers, observing him finally sort out their status in this new life while always checking on Will to see if he was fine. They didn't talk until Will finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, Will?" Hannibal stopped his tracks, and Will felt his eyes on him.

"For... For everything. I shouldn't have pressed on about... About you being scared. And I'm sorry for shouting at you." He didn't mention shoving Hannibal's hand on his crotch. This was another story.

"You already apologised for the first one, Will. I also accept your apologies for the second one, must we know you we under pressure. It's alright." Hannibal tried to offer him a smile, but Will noticed even a person like Hannibal had their limits. It's just had been a _long day_ for the both of them.

"I  — I guess." Will sighed. He keeps petting Timothy for some more seconds, before adding: "Don't you want to sit here for a while? You've also been through a lot, Hannibal."

"I'm afraid I'd rather leave my rest for later, Will. I'll check if there's information about our... Sexes around here. I also recommend you to stay resting, your body needs it." _Whatever is happening to it, that is._ Will didn't even want to think about it. He remembered then that Hannibal had read the rest of the papers, so he asks before the man leaves.

"Any polemic info to be added to the pile from those papers?"

Hannibal took his time to respond Will's question.

"Our marriage dates back to April 2013  —  Our anniversary is in three days. Everything else is unimportant for us at the moment." They'd been married for _three whole years_. And in three years Will hadn't seen Hannibal. It was almost ironic, really. He noticed the doctor sounded somewhat hesitant, and Will could understand why.

Because Mischa would probably be here for the day. And they'd have to act like nothing outlandish happened to them; No sudden marriages, no magical cliff falls or a new discovery about their genitals. _Fucking fantastic._

Will also remembered they let Mischa hanging. He turned at the doctor expecting to receive an answer.

"I'll let you know we still need to inform ourselves  —"

"Now you're just plain avoiding her." Will stated.

"I'm certainly not doing such childish thing, William. We just need  — "

"Hannibal, for the love of God, _stop_. Look at us, Look at this mess. Just stop trying to fix your person suit and save your energy."

If Hannibal was capable of throwing his arms up in defeat, he'd do that. But instead, he only let out a heavy sigh.

"Alright, I admit. I'm not ready to see her. Are you satisfied?"

Will tried not to smile. _Fucking Finally_.

"A little bit."

Something told him Hannibal would end up swearing by the end of the day. He already lost his defenses, and all Will had to do now was wait. _If everything is a fucking mess, why not make it bigger?_ That was his only consolation over the fact his changed body was aching and he was horribly cranky.

"I'll search for some books."

"Why don't you use the internet? My 'phone' is right there." Will lazily pointed at the device while keeping Timothy well pet. Hannibal tried not to look displeased, approaching it with a slight frown, only to be interrupted by a sharp doorbell ring and various dogs barking their fur out from outside the bedroom. Both men froze in their spots.

_"Don't you even dare."_

"Grab some shorts, then." Hannibal gritted out, looking in the verge of committing murder. They didn't take too long to get in the front door. The doctor quickly arranged a composed mask when he stood in front of the wooden entrance, looking dangerously calm, and swiftly opened the door. Will held his breath when he took his first look at Mischa Lecter, looking preoccupied and distracted by her blond pastel-pink hair on her face. She showed her concern in big, brown eyes; Not exactly like her brother's but darker. Mischa was all soft cheeks and round features, pale skin dotted with beauty marks and lips exactly like Hannibal's  —  sharp and plump. She looked too _much_ like him and at the same time she was her own self, and if Will was not taken back by her young adult beauty, Hannibal certainly was. Smiling, she went to Hannibal and hugged him.

The doctor froze, hands hanging on her plump waist, and Will swore he could see them tremble. He then hugs her back, and buries his face in her short bangs.

And Will could only watch; Taken back by how _vulnerable_ Hannibal had become. It brought shivers down Will's spine, and when Mischa pulled back, he could see the doctor's eyes blurred with unshed tears. His sister frowned at them, but Hannibal ignored her suspicion and smiled.

 

_"Hello, Mischa."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *raises hands to the sky* MISCHAAAAA she is a beauty, oh my god. I loved writing her, i gotta be honest with you guys.  
> If you're wondering why the heck would Will get in a heat so quickly, leave that to the next chapter. There will be answers, LOTS of answers!
> 
> Blet means F*ck in Lithuanian, aaaaand Hannibal says "Oh my god" up there. Also, I feel so sorry for both of those nerds. I'm probably posting the third chapter on my Hannigram wedding anniversary so yeaaah expect some smooching!  
> And thanks ChaosOrdo_FFL for suggesting a name for a dog! Now meet Timothy, the dog on the bed.
> 
> Goodbye, fellow fannibals, and please forgive me for causing those two unnecessary pain.


	3. An Expected Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mischa, Hannibal and Will have a long talk about what's going on. 
> 
> And Hannibal cries. Because he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so SO sorry for my delay, my dudes! I've been having a shitty week so far, and my writer's block is shit. Double shit. So this is a little bit short for my liking.  
> And i tried my best to improve some of my writing in this chapter, because I'm bad at english. *cries* Also, this is a humorous/crack fic for those who don't know, but with a sprinkle of angst. Typical of me. 
> 
> This chapter here is mainly Mischa meeting them and some shenanigans, but Will is a nasty guy so he keeps wandering back to his horny ass. Be warned.

 

 

Mischa knew from the moment Will Graham answered her call that something was _wrong_. Three years taught her a lot about her brother's omega husband; He wasn't by any means the type Mischa thought Hannibal would end up with. She expected a posh, snobby high class omega — From a wealthy family, perhaps —  Similar to what _motina_ expected Mischa to be. Instead, she was surprised to see her brother fall hopelessly in love with no other than the grumpy university teacher she'd been colleagues with. Will Graham; Who covered his astonishing beauty with worn baggy clothes  and a pair of thick rimmed glasses. An omega no one seemed to have interest in due to his constant frowning and _'people dodging'_ skills. Mischa tried — She really did — to befriend Will before he met Hannibal, but the man simply avoided her like he did with basically the whole building, and if that seemed to be a challenge for Hannibal she honestly had no idea. Mischa was used to hear many say it was easier to befriend a rock than Will Graham; Rumored to be an actual cat lady but with dogs and the most twitchy little omega Beverly, one of Will's co-workers, had ever seen. But somehow, no one other than Will managed to steal Hannibal's heart.

She still remembers her brother's frivolous attempts to gain Will's love over the _months_ it took for finally get his dearest to go on a date. How questioning his intellect led the omega to break her brother's hope with a single 'I don't find you that interesting' and how his so called _courting gifts_ — Pretentiousness wouldn't get him to Will's heart, but did he listen? Of course not — Were all hilariously refused or thrown away. Hannibal didn't take long to learn the only gifts that weren't wasted or stuffed in a trash can were his culinary ones; Will never refused food, maybe because not every day one eats food prepared by such amazing chef like Hannibal. So her brother, with his new strategy, managed to win his long awaited date with Will Graham by cooking the omega's meals for over two months. Of course it took some time for Will to accept the idea of having no one other than Dr. Hannibal Lecter — Known not to be fond of rude, low class people —   handing him meticulously prepared food while on work and when he was comfortable in his house in Wolf Trap, he told Mischa once. But after a while Will started to open for her brother when he realized Hannibal had so much to appreciate, taking his pompousness aside. Mischa had always prided herself for not letting her status take her freedom away, and not long Hannibal himself proved to not let his perfectionism and high expectations cloud his mind any longer. She then started to see her brother become less rigid about his status and more open, _more human_. His constant use of three piece suits were substituted to more casual clothing, making him look much younger, and it didn't take long for Hannibal to become what Mischa expected him to be for a long time.

A caring husband, not a stoic doctor devoid of emotion.  Not that Hannibal wasn't _caring_ ; Mischa was sure there's no one that loved her more than Hannibal, because he cared for her, _a lot_. But his sister aside, it was uncommon he'd show true emotion for anyone at all. Hannibal wasn't an unfriendly alpha —   His opera friends would deny that in a heartbeat — He just lacked... Warmth. It used to scare Mischa back when they lived in France with Aunt Murasaki and Uncle Robertas; She understood Hannibal was still affected by almost losing her and their parents, but now their parents were still in Lithuania leading a normal life, Mischa was alive and living with him in the US, and there was no need _to be like that_. She didn't know what would be of her dear brother if it wasn't her and Will. Mischa still shuddered at the thought.

Whatever Will Graham accomplished with her brother, Mischa was eternally grateful for him. Now they're celebrating three years of marriage and _motina_ was still waiting for her grandkids and Mischa to finally settle down. Of course the first option was by far more probable to happen then the second one at the moment; Mischa knew Will got out of his birth control tablets a few months ago and was expecting to conceive while in heat — _Smart man_. Mischa could be many things, but to be a _wife_  was still a hard to swallow lump in her throat. She knew Samuel was trying his best to gain her affections. Feeling her face flush by the thought of her and Sam together made her shake the tempting thoughts away from her mind. Right now, she had to concentrate in something else. Such as Will and Hannibal's odd behaviour in the phone call.

Again, three years took Mischa long enough to befriend and turn into Will's unofficial best friend; And she knew well enough her brother-in-law to sense something _off_ in their conversation. Mischa also knew both were not working today, and if that's a challenge to let her investigate whatever is going on with the couple, _it's not._

But nothing could've prepared her to see her brother shed some tears just by hugging her in his front door.

_Something was terribly off._

* * *

 

_"Hanni, are you crying?"_

Will resisted the urge to go back to Timothy. _Of course we didn't last even five seconds, fucking great._ Hannibal seemed to regain his rational thoughts with Mischa's questioning look; Quickly averting his obvious tear smeared eyes from her. He then closed his slightly agape mouth and creased his brow in thought.  

"It's nothing, Mischa. Please, come in." By the stern look the woman gave them, she was, of course, not buying Hannibal's blatant excuse. She was no fool and Will remembered the doctor telling him how she'd know they were lying by the second she looked at them. Of course, both tried to hide the upcoming revelation as much as they could, and lasted only five fucking seconds. Mischa uncurled her arms off of Hannibal and took turns to look at her brother and back to Will, frowning.

"Will, uh... You're in heat." She told Will with a whisper. The ex-profiler tried not to cringe.

"Y-yes."

Mischa opened her mouth and quickly shut it; She was, much for Will's solace, as speechless as them. Will could almost see the cogs in her head working, trying to say anything that'd be useful at the moment. Hannibal suddenly interrupted the awkward silence, clearing his throat.

"Let me ask again. Please, come in." The doctor tried to keep his best composed facade as he turned towards the door, ignoring the whining and scratches coming from inside and his obvious cry hoarsened voice. Mischa took her frowning from Will and narrowed her eyes at her brother, clearly taken back by Hannibal's pathetic attempts at dismissing her question.

" _Stop,_ Hannibal. Tell me what's going on, now." _She's sharp_ , and Will started to understand why she gained his friendship before he got stuck in this reality. Mischa Lecter was one of the few who managed to sweep Hannibal's manipulation before it even reached her — Easily as chasing a rat back with a broom. And Will was taken by how _effective_ she was on the doctor. No one wins one of his games like this. But here she was, hands on her hips and eyes skinning her brother alive. Hannibal gave her one of his 'well-played' smiles, looking proud and obviously taken back, and turned back to his sister slowly. Will let himself fidget while watching the Lecter siblings glare at each other. If things weren't screwed, they'd be screwed now.

"I'm sorry."

"Save it, Hanni. Now please, don't... Don't try to avoid my questions. Why were you crying? _What's going on_?" She asked softly, but her eyes on Hannibal are still sharp. Her brother let his gaze soften on her, and if Will hadn't seen that look before, he'd be lying. He looked at her like she's the most beautiful sonata — Pouring his loving gaze onto her and taking in each precious detail like a painter finishes his art work — And admires a masterpiece in his world of ugliness. Will knew because that's the same gaze Hannibal gave him. And it scared Will to know that he's as dear to the doctor as Mischa herself. She pouted at her brother's silence, still worried.

"Hanni, please... Can you function? What's —" Mischa turned her head to Will, pushing her questions towards the ex-profiler. "Will, help? Can you two act normal? You guys are scaring me for real!"

"Would you believe us if we said we forgot everything about our lives?" _He said it, it's done now._ Mischa raised her eyebrows in confusion, opening her mouth and quickly shutting it with a snap. Hannibal also looked shocked, he'd clearly not expecting to get her know the truth so suddenly. Will tried to look ashamed, but honestly, he was sweating like a pig and the dogs whining were slowly driving him mad.

"Will —"

"For fucks sake, stop it already! Letting her know and help is a way better option than try to hide it as long as you can and make your sister deck you, Hannibal." Huffing, Will opened the front door and let the dogs swarm at their feet. His mood was quickly alighted when he saw a familiar, fluffy brown tail wagging through the pack; Winston barked happily when Will finally crouched between various curious wet noses and started petting the dog.

"Winston! Hey boy, you're here! How did I miss you back there, buddy?" Winston licked his hands and face while Will mumbled happily to the mutt, and soon more dogs start to crowd Will for attention. He didn't recognize most of them; Some were clearly pure bred and not found in the streets, like a jumbled looking pug and an elegant German shepherd by its side. He greeted all the dogs with a smile, loving to see he owned such a diverse pack.

He even forgot for a minute Mischa and Hannibal staring at him, waiting for Will to finish meeting his new dogs. Mischa gave him a warm smile when he collected himself from the floor; And _good_ , she seemed to be more convinced what he told her was true than before. He kept Winston by his side as she took a breath and finally spoke.

"We should definitely have this conversation sitting down with a big mug of tea by our sides, before I say you two must be late for April 1th. The pranks are over guys...!" She awkwardly giggled. Will noticed her eyes were still narrowed in disbelief, and he didn't blame her. Not every day your loved ones turn to you and admit they may not know what happened past their whole lives, out of the blue. Will took his time to nod at Mischa in agreement, watching Hannibal's eyes flicker in thought; Always calculating, even when they already lost the game.

"Yeah, uh, let's get inside." Will managed to grit out. _This is going to be a long ass day._

* * *

 

Mischa took milk and honey in her tea, and sipped the hot drink carefully, observing the Will with big, dark brown eyes. They stay silent for a brief moment, listening to the soft pats on the carpet floor as dogs went by; some sniffing their hands for treats and others deciding to lay on the fluffy rug.  Will was still bothered by his constant sweat and unusual warmth, but he'd rather gain progress in knowing how the woman could help them than break down and return to Timothy. He also ignored how he could feel his pants sticking up to his arse cheeks, crudely reminding him of the biggest problem so far. Fuck, _he felt so empty._ Grinding his teeth together, Will discreetly squeezed his thighs together to take some of the growing itch away, praying to whatever wicked God he angered to get stuck with this _bullshit_ to end his pathetic suffering.

"Do you want some tablets for it?" Mischa suddenly asked after taking another sip from her tea. Will harshly fumbled his legs to a normal position in response, feeling his face burn. _Of course she'd notice._

"For what?" _Way to go, Graham._

"Your Heat? Will, did you forget what a heat is too?" He knew she tried to stir up some humor for the rather awkward situation, but Will didn't reply and Mischa's decaying smile honestly felt like a stab to the gut. She tried to laugh, eyes frantically searching for a camera to appear out of thin air, and stops when Hannibal's humorless expression gets in her sight.

"You, you two are joking, right? Please tell me this is a joke." Mischa mumbled in her last attempt of getting them to admit everything was just a big, outdated prank. Will remained quiet.

"We also don't record marrying." Hannibal added, not taking his eyes from Mischa. "Or buying a house together. This world we are currently in is a blank page for us, and yet we know ourselves and some other details. I know I'm still a doctor, and you're still my sister. But no, I'm afraid this is not a joke, Mischa."

"Oh... Okay." Mischa looked as lost as them. "What is the last thing you remember?" She added, trying to keep eye contact with her brother. Will honestly thought telling her they just fell off a cliff after murdering a man who thought himself to be a dragon would rather make her call the police than actually help. He'd do that if he wasn't involved. There is _no way_ to start their explanation without them mentioning Hannibal's years locked up or their time spent chasing each other _or_ committing ethnically immoral actions Mischa Lecter should never hear about. His relationship with Hannibal and what he's been through to get in this situation fits more in _a book plot_ than what he could possibly say for Mischa. But here they were, choosing the most plausible choice they can grant her with; Will already knew he had to keep their blood spilling out of her reach, or else Hannibal himself was going to gut him _again_ for breaking his trust. That's not an experience Will wants to relive again. So he choose the roots of their relationship — Back to the friendly Dr. Lecter and the unstable FBI profiler Will Graham, where there was less blood and less intimacy — But somehow, losing all the years along with Hannibal was not an option Will felt comfortable with. Whatever they built during years was _beautiful,_ not something to be discarded so easily. He tried to, and failed. Will wished he'd be dead so he would not come to face why he wanted to give in to the doctor so much, how his lips would trail his skin, how he'd do anything to not leave the embrace of Hannibal Lecter.

And not long ago, he was married to a woman, and believing all his bisexual urges left him long ago. Now, he was married to Hannibal, wishing he'd have sex with the man, all after jumping off a _fucking cliff_.

Will left his different body aside, terrified to even remember the itch between his legs again and crave for something, _anything_ , getting shoved deep inside him.

"He was taking me home. Hannibal has been my psychiatrist for a while." Will suddenly broke the silence, making the Lecter Siblings turn to him.  They could forge up how their relationship would end up without both of them being so avid to destruction. Hannibal nodded at hearing Will's words, before adding in:

"We've been friends, but the world itself was different from this one."

Mischa blinked for a few seconds. Will could clearly see she was trying to figure out their situation in her head. "So... Hannibal was a psychiatrist? _Your_ psychiatrist?"

The ex-profiler nodded after examining Hannibal's reaction. He's expressionless, but his brow was slightly creased. Mischa's eyes widen.

"Isn't that... Not right? A doctor-patient relationship?" There was a lot of 'not right' things Will and Hannibal had committed themselves to, and that one was the weakest one, _by far_. Hannibal rapidly spoke again before Mischa could babble her opinions.

"I wasn't officially his psychiatrist, no. We just talked, nothing more."Will quickly agreed when he saw Hannibal's eyes shining with anticipation.

"Oh." Mischa's mouth formed a surprised pout. "So... You two were not romantically involved yet."

It was more a statement than a question, so both men nodded.

"And Will doesn't know what's his heat is anymore, and you were crying for no reason."

Well, he _had_  a reason, but they're still getting to the point they could tell her she was long dead in their reality. Instead, he shuddered by the mention of the word 'heat'.

"Will?"

God, he wished he was dead for the hundredth time.

"No — I don't know what they are and why the heck I'm having them, because as far as my knowledge with 'heat' goes, they happen in female dogs — only _female_ dogs and animals or whatever. _And I'm a human male_." He ended his speech with a huff, running his fingers over his sweaty curls and glaring daggers at Mischa. She stared at him, speechless.

"What are you — Heats don't work like that! Did you forget _simple biology_ , Will?" Mischa asked incredulously. "You must be joking. Please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not!" Will retorted. _He's going to bash his fucking head on the coffee table._ "Just tell us what is this bullshit. I know simple biology, trust me, but where I'm from there's no such thing as heat!"

Mischa turned her head to her brother, in hopes of finding that he was as confused as her, but Hannibal stood quiet, eyes patiently studying them both.

"You too, Hannibal? You're a goddamn doctor!" Mischa yelped, tossing her hands up in defeat. "Okay, I'm done. If you guys want me to play along, fine!"

The woman took a deep breath, and shook some of her blonde bangs out of her eyesight. "Uh... Alright. Heats happen to every mammal, including us and yes, dogs. They just sort of happen as long as we exist, I think. I mean, they're just part of our system." Pointing at Will wasn't the best option. The ex-profiler interrupted her explanation with a scoff, ready to defend himself.

"I'm not a fucking female dog!"

"Exactly, you're not!" Mischa exclaimed. "What the heck are you even bringing females and dogs up to this? This is strictly for omegas!"

"Here it is again! _Omega_. What is a goddamn omega? All my documents keep telling me that! Why the fuck is this happening to me?!" Will rested his head on his hands. _Fuck, it's getting worse._ Whatever was happening down his pants needed attention badly. Stress apparently took a toll on his body, and it wasn't long before he felt his already fevered head swim. Mischa quickly caught his fraying body before he lost his balance, and led it to the sofa without letting Will protest.

"Omega is what you and me are, and we have heats, and if you neglect your heat and become a stress shaped human you're going to have to deal with the downsides of heat; Such as headaches and dizziness. My heats aren't that bad, but apparently yours are." Without wasting any time, she reached for her handbag and fished a flower patterned wallet from inside. She was meticulously quick with her actions, much like Hannibal himself, with a doctor like attitude and skilled, plump hands. He didn't protest swallowing one of the orange capsules she gave him, probably because she knew what she was handling with.

"You're going to feel better, I promise. I remember seeing some of the same tablets I gave you around here one day, so you're probably not allergic to them. And you should rest. I normally spend my heats laying on my bed with the AC on and eating ice cream. Cold stuff helps, you know?" She placed her cold hands on his burning cheeks. "Now, heats last between two for three days. Or sometimes one, if you're lucky enough. That's the highest peak of the days. After that, you're okay." If Will's head wasn't swimming before, it was sure losing its shit now. He didn't even want to question Mischa anymore. He took a deep breath, eyes still on the woman, and exhaled weakly. _At least it's not permanent._

"So I... I just have to wait, then?" Will's voice was void of hope, weak. He felt like a stranger in his body again, clueless of how he could help himself. Mischa bit her lip in thought.

"Yeah, but you uh... You have Hannibal. That helps a little bit." Will pretended he didn't see Hannibal Lecter flinch at Mischa's blatant answer. Her suggested help is probably Will finally giving in to the desire of having Hannibal's... _dick_ deep inside him, and he would  _not_ do that. _He won't have it._

His cringing face didn't pass unnoticed by the Lecter siblings.

"Are you suggesting him to... to _fuck me_? Mischa!"

"But he's your husband here, what do you want me to say?" She yelped. "Look, I know this is crazy for you two, but it's... it's not for me, alright? You're an omega, Hannibal's an alpha. That's it. How can I explain that?"

"What the heck is an alpha?" The ex-profiler questioned feebly, suddenly grateful he's not the only one in this mess.

"How can I explain that?" Mischa asked more to herself than to the pair.  "He's... God, this is complicated." She sat heavily next to Will.

"Don't worry, Mischa, we'll delve into any further information by ourselves. You've done us good enough." Hannibal spoke from his seat. He was oddly calm, Will noticed, but his eyes were holding a soft glint towards him and his sister. Maybe seeing both of his most loved ones interact for the first time was a worthy moment to have embed in his Mind Palace. Will tried to ignore the flush on his cheeks. Whoever was winning, it was certainly Hannibal. Their stay in this reality was starting to become less of a curse and more of a new beginning for the doctor, but that was only for him. They're so close and yet so far to be... To be whatever Bedelia predicted them to be. 

And it scared Will. Because as the day passes, the urge of locking his lips with Hannibal's was growing stubbornly. He's not sure if it's his libido or his own frail heart speaking; Hannibal's happiness, along with seeing Mischa and Will alive and killing together, was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. And he wanted to actively be part of that happiness, deep inside. He's just not sure if their rocky barriers of past manipulation and pain could handle to be broken and forgiven. Hannibal had hurt Will in many more ways he realizes. But he hurt the doctor back. They're _destructive_ , and he's tired. Their solace, perfect harmony together was after they've been baptized in blood, and stripped bare of their defenses. Like that, they fitted perfectly, and Will ached for that. He hates to admit Bedelia was right.

He ached for Hannibal Lecter. _He loved him_. And he didn't know how to handle that besides ending their life. Because he wanted to die being cradled close to him, die before he let his feelings take control over him. And now he's questioning himself how he'll handle them at all.

Mischa nodded after hearing Hannibal's words. She was beautiful as her brother, and smart as him. The doctor had a lot of reasons to be proud of her.

"I guess..." She locked her eyes on Hannibal's. "Hanni, can I ask why were you crying again? I — I don't understand."

Hannibal studied Mischa in thought, eyes still soft, and stood from his chair, gently sitting next to the woman. She peeked at her brother through pale blond lashes, contouring her rosy, plump cheeks; Her face was still young, untouched by time like Will's in this reality, still showing her brother a face he'd saw long ago in his youth. Will understood he'll never be able to feel the pain the doctor had been through without her. She's no memory anymore. She's what caused Hannibal to wake the monster within him.

The doctor took a deep, cleansing breath. 

"My reality had only you as my memory, Mischa. You lived within me, because you no longer had a body. You weren't with us anymore." They way Hannibal told her of her tragic fate was similar to how he told Will of their incoming fate of being together. _For both of them, the way he always ever wanted_. She gasped softly at Hannibal's words, her eyes eventually filling with tears.

"I — I was _dead_? Oh- _Mano brolis..._ " She hid her mouth behind plump fingers. "Was it back when...? When we...?"

"Yes, _meldžiamasis_. " Hannibal responded with a sigh. "I never thought I'd see you again. To see you grow into a beautiful woman. When you died, Mischa, part of me was buried along with you. You were my responsibility, and I had failed you." He caressed her cheek absently, his voice weaker and lacking confidence. "I had failed you I never forgave myself. I'm deeply sorry, Mischa."

"You were a child, Hannibal!" Mischa's tears are all caught by Hannibal's thumb. "You were a child, and there was no way you could've fought them. This is not your fault —"

"You were _my_ responsibility." Hannibal repeated. Mischa let out a sob.

"Please, _please_ don't keep blaming yourself. I'm here, okay, I'm not leaving you, please, _mano Brolis_." Hannibal suddenly had an armful of Mischa, and if Will's heart wasn't aching before, it was certainly aching now. The doctor dived into her hug with strength, holding her as close as he can, so afraid of letting her go. He didn't cradle her like Abigail or Will, he's not holding back. His head is hidden under pink and blonde hair, but Will could see his jaw working, whispering nothings to her, the barely there wisps of his voice sounding so foreign in Lithuanian.

And he heard him cry. He fucking heard Hannibal Lecter _cry_. Not cry silently, no, he's sobbing like Mischa. Will has seen the doctor cry before, but not heard him sob. It's not tears of anger, of sadness — Of gutting Will and seeing him bleed out on the floor. It's tears of whatever cascade of emotions Hannibal is feeling at the moment; Happiness, love, realization, _grief_. He mourned too, but probably because Mischa's not within him anymore. Her flesh was intact, unblemished. Just the way he wanted it to be.

They also take a while to stop clinging to each other for dear life. When Hannibal and Mischa finally presented their tear smudged faces towards Will, he wasn't even feeling _that_ cranky anymore. Their smiles were worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so fucking soppy. I almost shed a tear while writing Hanni and Mischa's moment. I'm making that cannibal cry in this fic, you're going to see. He's still of course a cold blooded murderer, but he's paying his prices. Mischa will do good for him <3
> 
> Also, keep in touch that I may upload this earlier than I intend to (because I'm finishing the next chapter already) and I'll tell you something. It's full of Hannigram. FULL. The next chapter is why you're here, trust me.  
> (and yaay Winston is back *getting dem chimichangas*)
> 
>    
> Goodbye, fellow Fannibals! I hope I update this in a few days, and not a week >3>


	4. A promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this is their second chance, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'd like to thank the wonderful Victorine for being my new beta! You saved this fic. Thank you so much, dear!
> 
> Okay, I know I've been absent for a little while (Shame on me) but here it is; The Hannigram I promised! Still not Smut, but we are heading there, my dudes! Just stay tuned because now with Victorine by my side, I'm going to ace this fanfic. I'm still taken back by the feedback this fic had, and holy shit, you guys are awesome. *wipes away tears*
> 
> You'll notice this fic is in a way better shape now because of my new beta reader, so thank you again!

_"Is it on? Stop shaking the screen, let me see!"_

_"Yes, it is on. Wait, love, let me get the camera focused."_

_"Alright, mister technology."_

_"Ok, now turn around."_

_The small screen brightened gradually, taking its time to focus on colourful blurs and shapes, until clearing the view and displaying a happily panting dog being held by pale hands._

_"Say hello to the camera, Pascal!" The dog yipped playfully at his owner’s voice. A soft laugh was followed by, amused at Pascal's hyped barks, "Yes, hello to you too, little guy!"_

_"This is Pascal. He's the new member of our little pack, right Han?" the same soft voice asked the camera, letting the dog take his barking spotlight._

_"He's already one of the top notch troublemakers of our 'little' pack. Wee thing is already chewing on our furniture."_

_"Hannibal, have some pity on Pascal. He still needs to learn. But you're a good boy, right, Pascal?" The mutt was soon peppered by kisses and replying to them with non-stop licks on his holder’s face. "Aw, look at you! You're giving me a bath."_

_"Will, he's licking your mouth."_

_"Oh my, your dad is jealous, Pascal. Bad boy, Hannibal."_

_"Okay, that's enough for you to send it to Mischa. Say goodbye, Pascal."_

_"Hey, I was joking, darlin'! You can kiss me too."_

_"I'm **not** kissing your dog saliva covered mouth, William."_

_"You are totally going to."_

 

The video was cut short after the dialogue, going back to the repeat button screen. Will didn't bother to hold a shaky sigh from escaping his lips. Watching videos of a life he did not remember while waiting for Hannibal to arrange a small lunch for him and his sister shouldn't leave such a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn't because the idea of having such a trivial, mundane time with none other than Hannibal Lecter himself, and sharing affection with him was so unfamiliar, no. Will somehow... _wished_ he'd remember what his previous self felt, and let them be his _own_ memories, not someone else's. But what he wanted was impossible. Letting himself finally agree that _maybe_ Bedelia had known he'd succumb to Hannibal still terrified Will to his very core.But it was there —throbbing stubbornly like a wound —the ugly truth waiting for attention, waiting for Will to finally deal with it.

And he didn't have any strength left to hold this itch away, after all that had happened in this hellish vortex he had hallucinated as a day.

He'd _seen_ Hannibal, again and again; free of his person suits and lies, bare and pitifully vulnerable for God knows how many times today. Stripped of any armour, defenceless, crying in his sister's arms. Bleeding out his greatest mistake: being able to love. One simple thing, so ridiculously common, was the key to Hannibal's imprisonment, held by Will and Mischa only, in the very palms of their hands.It was absurd. And yet, it fascinated Will.

Because he'd never give this key away again. He'd rather die than be separated from Hannibal once more.

_Damn this goddamn dream._

"Will, lunch's ready," Mischa's voice suddenly called from the kitchen, shaking Will from his wandering thoughts. He could already smell steamed vegetables between the aromas of grilled meat and rice; a simple meal for someone like Hannibal, but efficient for someone like Will. Putting the phone back to the coffee table and stretching his legs gave him long enough to swallow down any other distractions towards his _madness_ and head towards the wood arch to the kitchen. He found Mischa busy placing any missing silverware on the table, pink-blond hair tied in short pigtails, but she instantly gave him a hesitant smile as Will gingerly approached a chair. Hannibal took no time leaving the kitchen counter and started placing their meal on the centre of the table, smiling along with Mischa. Will tried to reply to the Lecter siblings with a smile, but the quietness of the room stole away any of his humour.

They ate in silence, hesitant of what to say or what to expect next, except that the three of them knew there were still conversations to have. Many questions were not answered yet, and silence only helped to let the tension grow. Will shuddered. Whatever _wonder pills_ Mischa gave him, they sure worked, but it didn't erase the wary feeling of being in such an awful situation with his body and mind. He was still definitely _sure_ whatever happened down his pants was just a fragment of his decaying mind, frightening him to even remember its existence and what he'd done to Hannibal. He couldn't afford to even believe that was... _real_. And his _condition_ wouldn't go away with a single tablet, according to the woman. He'd endure it for God knows how many days and, as if things weren't bad enough, being _in heat and having an unidentified cavity_ weren't even his only problems. Mischa hadn't even scraped the surface. Whatever came next, it would only bring him more death wishes.

"Wow, Hannibal, even if you said this is your equivalent of fast food, this is still _really_ good." Mischa commented, finally breaking the deafening silence. She'd been chewing on a particularly big piece of steak, brow creased in concentration while she worked her teeth on Hannibal's meal. Her silence seemed to be more caused by her determination on chewing her brother's food than actually being bothered she may not know the two of them at all anymore, but Will honestly couldn't tell. Breaking an icy awkwardness around the kitchen table by commenting on the food was, after all, a good option.

"I'd be honoured in taking more time cooking for you a more sophisticated meal, but I'm happy you're enjoying it." Hannibal responded softly. He didn't even bother to hide his big, proud smile. Will somehow _knew_ Hannibal must have always dreamt of boasting his culinary skills to his sister. _Typical._

"The rice is definitely my favourite —what is it anyway?" The girl pointed towards her plate.

"Piamontese risotto, or Risotto alla Piamontese. An Italian dish popular in South America, very simple to cook, and very enjoyable," Hannibal explained to his sister. Will didn't do more than stir the risotto around his plate, feeling void of any appetite. Water seemed to be the only substance he managed to down without feeling like his stomach was a fucking brewing kettle.

"Another reason for _motina_ to raise her approving flag and come here to America. _Viva l'italia_."

Hannibal stopped mid-track with his fork next to his slightly agape mouth, eyes unblinking. Will also ceased to roll the rice around, narrowing his eyes at the sibling pair.

" _Motina_?" Will repeated the word holding back a frown.

"Oh." Mischa looked at her brother and back to Will, before adding, "Oh, _oh my_. It- It makes sense she... Oh God, I'm so stupid."

"She's in Lithuania?" Hannibal asked before laying his fork down. Mischa nodded hesitantly.

"Who's... _Motina_?"

"It's Lithuanian for mother, Will," the doctor said. As much as he tried not to, Will's mouth slowly opened to form a silent gasp.

"Your mom's... _alive_?" the ex-profiler muttered in awe, mostly to himself. _Of course_ this family lunch would end up with more surprising news. And of course Hannibal's flawless Italian and love for Florence came from someone.

"She fancies the title Nona Lecter now because she's desperate for grandkids, _brolis_ ," Mischa added, holding back an amused smile. "She's also ready to convince _tėtis_ to pay us avisit on... Oh, damn..."

" _Tėtis_ is alive too...?" Hannibal said flatly, face becoming void of the little colour it had left. Will shifted on his chair, not knowing what to say in such an intimate moment between the Lecters. He was a stranger to this family and yet there he was, shocked to know a part of Hannibal he'd never seen. The man stared down to the floor, eyes wide and unblinking, until he took a deep breath and broke the sudden silence with a slightly trembling voice.

"Are they well?"

_Hannibal... still cared about them._

"Y-Yes, they're well." Mischa responded after studying her brother's quiet frame. A slight glint of surprise and sadness creased soft features, her eyes still resting on her brother's, comforting him. Hannibal gave her a short nod after running his hands over his face and facing them again.

"Thank you," the doctor muttered. "They're coming for... for the wedding anniversary, am I correct?"

"Oh, yes, they are...!" the woman exhaled. "There’s still so much for you two to know, it's ridiculous. Sometimes I find myself doubting if I just crashed my car and hit my head, because... Wow. I'm sure this doesn't happen frequently. I mean, one day we'll need answers about why this happened."

"Finally, even Mischa agrees this is... really crazy," Will pointed out, his fork long forgotten on his risotto. "See? Even your sister agrees this is _still_ not making any sense. Yes, we are all just hallucinating this."

"There must be some way to explain double amnesia. Do you think we need medical assistance?" Mischa also laid her fork down, facade breaking into worn worry. "Because there's no way this could be permanent. I-I don't want it to be. But if we find help —"

"...Because we are technically strangers to you now." Will added, but the way Hannibal's face scrunched caught him like a grip on his throat. Whoever they were in this reality were _strangers_ ; with different paths and different stories to tell. They were almost like impostors, taking the roles of Mischa's dear friend and brother and replacing them with a corrupted version. This version of Mischa was a what-if, non-existent in their universe, and whatever they were doing here _wasn't good_.

The thought of Mischa's Hannibal and Will dying on a cliff in their place, robbed of a perfect life to be buried within the Atlantic Ocean shouldn't have scared him as much as it did now. If by chance they survived, how would they cope in a broken world without freedom and tainted as murderers, slowly dying on the beach together, bleeding out and asking _why_. Why would someone like him and Hannibal be benefited with a life _they_ constructed? Will didn't deserve it and neither did Hannibal. So _why_ a second chance?

Will never thought he'd pity the fate he tried to accomplish. His other self didn't deserve it. _He did._

" _This is so fucked up..."_ Will hid his face between trembling hands. This life wasn't his. This body wasn't his. He was taking something that didn't belong to him. But he didn't want to see Hannibal lose the glint of hope in his eyes, lose his sister and family again. _He didn't want to go back to denial._

"We could find a way to cope with memory loss." Hannibal's voice sounded vacant toWill's ears. They were in a critical condition,not knowing where to head or what to do. If even Hannibal Lecter himself had finally realised how dangerously _deep_ they were in this, and was creating escape routes based on nothing but assumptions, that was it. They were now totally hopeless.

"Whatever." Will plopped back to the chair. _This is just a hallucination anyways._

"Maybe time can prove to be the remedy, you know? I heard that a lot of people who suffered from amnesia tend to regain some memories back," Mischa told both of them. "Or I could try telling you as much as I can about your lives and triggering some memories. You two are still my brother and my brother-in-law, you know... Same personalities, but lacking... some information." She gave them a small, optimistic smile.

"But we —we remember living another life, Mischa." Will didn't dare to look at Hannibal's obviously hurt face. "This just feels like it's not happening at all."

"Oh... Yeah. B-But we can solve this, I'm _sure_ of it. Why not try triggering some memories with me telling you two about... about this life? At least we'd have a starting point." She tried hiding her fidgeting fingers, but she had a good, albeit vague and awfully optimistic, idea. Maybe listening to her tell more about their new selves could help them not be so... _lost_. Will already knew Hannibal wasn't a psychiatrist, based solely on Mischa's confusion at telling her what he'd been in their reality, and both the doctor's parents were alive and well in Lithuania. He didn't know much about himself yet. If he still had his job back at Quantico, or if he followed his path along profiling for the FBI at all. He looked _young_ , fresh out of college, but what he knew about 'simple biology' wasn't valid in this hallucination.

"That's a good idea. It could do us good to know about our lives, about who we are," Hannibal said after analysing Mischa's hesitant words. "We could finally understand which parts are the same and which ones are not this way.

 "What do you think, Will?" the doctor concluded, his eyes resting on Will's. In all honesty, Will's ideal plan would be returning to Timothy and lying on the bed until he woke from this absurd dream, but of course, that wasn't an option. He nodded in silence.

"Alright, so... Let's get started." Mischa sat back in her chair with a huff. "Just ask me where to start, because as you see, I've never done anything like this before."

They ended up sitting in silence for a brief, awkward time, until Hannibal finally broke the silence with his first question.

"What made us go to the U.S.?"

"Well, you wanted to graduate from Johns Hopkins. I wanted to study in the U.S. too, you know, so we ended up here together. It was... ten years ago, I think? You got your medical degree, I got into college, and we went ­on with our lives here. Is it really different from... your version?"she asked with a frown.

"Not really, no. I went to medical school, graduated, but I did not have you by my side," Hannibal responded. "It seems like my life was almost the same, but without you or our parents, Mischa."

Mischa hummed a small reply. Will didn't need his empathy to know how awful it must be for her to know her brother lost so much. To know his family had ended so _soon_.

"Will, why don't you ask a question too?" Hannibal quickly interrupted before Mischa could start tearing up again. Will blinked at the doctor, startled.

"Uh... Fine." Where to begin? Should he admit to the both of them their idea was useless and start to scream about how this was still not making any sense? That this was all his imagination playing severe tricks on him while he died unconscious in the Atlantic? Or should he finally break his avoidance towards his fucking new... _thing_ down his ass and yell all of his confusion to them? The more he thought of his new body, the more he wanted to lie down and give up. For fuck’s sake, _he wanted Hannibal's dick inside... him_. He still _wanted_ it and if that was not a free ticket to insanity, Will honestly didn’t know anymore. And now he had heats like a _dog_ , and was called a Greek letter rather than a male.

The thought of wondering if he still worked at Quantico next to all that had happened to him was actually _petty_ , insignificant.

"Will?" Mischa asked again, her face slowly forming a worried frown. Will let his hands cover his face, head throbbing to the beat of his heart. How would he follow along with _all of this_? He felt weak already, hopeless. It was too much to think about, to let it sink in and face this as a reality. So much to understand, to comprehend. His marriage to Hannibal, Mischa, their second chance, his own self. His previous life. A fall from a cliff he'd meant to end it all, only to be the start of something.

At least he wasn’t alone. For all the things that could've happened, not being separated from Hannibal was the least a wicked God could grant him.

"I... I just lost myself in my thoughts, don't worry," he meekly responded. Hannibal's staring shouldn't have burned, but he felt it penetrating his core. "I'm... No, I don't have anything to ask. I —excuse me for a moment." Will abruptly stood, chair screeching on the wood floor, and took his leave before he could hear Mischa's calling and see Hannibal's eyes close in defeat. _It's just too much, goddamnit._ Will was used to feeling lost and a stranger in his own body, but nothing had been so overwhelming, so _confusing_ as this. He expected death, not wondering if Jack still bothered him with fieldwork. Not a new body, not a new life. Even Dolarhyde's death seemed _distant_ now, and their becoming. Molly's smiles and hard work to make a man like him have an illusion of happiness, Bedelia's sharp truths and hands always holding a wine glass, Jack's stubborn ways of justice, his days working on boat motors and at Quantico, his sick brain, Abigail's death, even the corpses he'd seen, the killers he'd empathised with, and his days sitting on his porch drinking cheap whiskey... were all beginning to _blur_. To taste more like a reminder, and less real; _less recent_. He’d wanted to bury his previous life so much, and _he fucking had_.

He was stuck in his own head, he had to be.

" _What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck...!"_ He didn’t bother to stop himself from kicking any furniture his tear filling eyes could see, from ottomans to the coffee table, while screaming out his bottled up frustration for it to echo over this stupid house of his. They didn’t take too long to hear his swearwords and barge into the living room; Hannibal leading in and caging a still screaming Will with strong arms, stopping the man from hurting himself.

"Fucking let go of me!" Will shrieked at the doctor, hands flying desperately to get away from Hannibal's vice grip. "You fucking let go of me _now_ or I'm leaving you!"

The grip on his hands loosened without ceremony, and Will instantly started pacing the room with fingers tangled on his scalp. Hannibal looked hurt, but aware the ex-profiler had reached his breaking point again. Will huffed angrily, face red and eyes smeared with tears, and on the verge of going back to break any other furniture.

"Holy shit." Mischa's words tore the small silence. She had been standing next to the kitchen arch, with arms crossed tightly and face void of any colour. Hannibal let her swearing go, his eyes still analysing each of Will's movements. He looked as desperate as he could be.

"I..." Will tried to find any words, but nothing came. Warm blood felt like the only harbour to reality as it seeped off his hands in small rivulets of red from an aching glass shard wound, painting the wood on the floor. He shouldn't be feeling pain in his dreams. Never once in his hallucinations did his wounds throb or sting so realistically, bordering on being awake. Yet the blood didn't seem to cloud his head with darkness like it did in his fevered mind. It felt warm; horribly real. The wound on his hand was _real_. The blood was real; so was any sensation he'd been feeling.

_This was... really happening._

He breathed once, twice, and focused on touching the wound, testing the pain. It stung like Dolarhyde's blade on his flesh. He hissed, wiping his blood with wide eyes. He watched it bleed once more, warm and sticky, fascinated to finally be able to feel something real as pain, to be shown that maybe he wasn't losing his head. He was feeling pain, _real_ pain. Will felt faint for the second time of the day.

"Oh, Will...! Hannibal, I think he might faint!" Mischa yelped, making Hannibal take a hold of his loose shoulders before he could face plant the floor. Hannibal's hands were warm too, realistically so, as more of Will accepted this couldn't be a product of his mind. _So fucking real._

Will let his body be carried back to the sofa gently by the doctor's hands, and blinked when he was asked if he could hear Hannibal's voice. Mischa stood by, watching him with worry creasing her face, while Hannibal checked his injured hand. It stung sharply at the doctor’s touch. Sharp and real, like this fucking day.

"Mischa, we need a first aid kit. Can you find one, please?" Hannibal asked his sister, eyes not leaving Will's. The woman nodded wordlessly before sprinting out of the room. Will kept staring off into nothing, afraid to move or look to the doctor's worried eyes.

"So... you're finally coming to terms that this may not be a hallucination at all," the doctor asked with a hum, professional hands cradling Will's wound carefully. _And not amused, fucking bastard._ Will let a raspy, humourless laugh seep from his dry lips.

"How can you deal with everything so... calmly? I swear to God, I don't even know anymore." He wiped some of the drying blood off with his undamaged hand, watching the red stain on his fingers.

"You know I'm not." Then Hannibal added with a shrug, "As you said, what's the point of building lies if our situation is already a lost cause? Will, my sister was dead to me not even one hour ago. How do you think I'm feeling right now?"

"I..." Will bit his lip, eyes frantically searching for an answer. "I just... You can handle things much better than I, and your family... Fuck, _I don't know_."

_I'd feel terrified. To gain a family back after erasing all hope for one._

"Will, listen to me. You need to focus on not letting yourself go, even if it's difficult. By letting rage or confusion take your mind, you'll end up hurt —" Hannibal was interrupted by a shaky snort.

"For fuck’s sake, just... _Stop it_. I don't even know what to do with the fact I apparently have... _something_ down my ass, and I've never been this _bad_ with my mood. The only reason I'm still not breaking any objects and screaming to the heavens is because you're here holding me. It's not like I'm even hallucinating or something —if this is really happening, I shouldn't be so happy that suddenly I'm able to have freaking heats!

"For God's sake, Hannibal, I feel so fucking _lost_. A-and I fucking shoved your hand down my ass and you're in a b-better shape than me with all of this, _fuck_ , and you're here —you know I'm not going crazy, you're with _me_ and God, we are fucking m-married here, we have a really fucking nice life, putting all of the other absurd shit aside, a-and you have your sister, your family — _You have me_. You freaking have me and I have you and... Fuck...!" His voice faltered off with a wrecking sob, his emotions flowing all over his mind and not letting him hide his pathetic crying. His voice was cracking at each shallow, wet breath he took, eyes shedding tears of what felt like a lifetime. "I just don't know what to do anymore. I-I wanted to die, Hannibal... Now I don't even know myself; if I should scream, if I should just fucking give up. A-And everything we lived back then just seems fucking _distant_ now. But not you, not my fucking _feelings_ for you. _I just d-don't know what to do_...!" He broke down then, in a sobbing mess, and Hannibal cradled his shaking body without any hesitance. Strong arms held him close, as if he'd break into pieces if not, and he felt glad for it. The doctor remained silent until Will felt a thumb wipe some stray tears off his eyes, and let himself stare into brown, pleading eyes.

"What did I ever do to deserve you by my side, even after all this mess?" Hannibal deadpanned. " _Why...?_ "

"Maybe it is... _Fate_ , who knows?" Will mumbled after taking a short breath, still cradled by Hannibal's arms. He still felt hopelessly _lost_ , but now he at least knew that Hannibal was truly by his side. This was maybe, even if physically and technically impossible by all standards in the whole galaxy, their second chance. Coming with dangerous oddities Will still had to cope with, _sure_ , but still a second chance. If they truly got buried underwater, or became one in dirt, he'd never know. Will couldn't wonder forever. _If they're neither here nor there._

So let this wicked universe have its way. What could Will _do_ anyway, besides moving along with this madness? Their beautiful awaited death was off the menu, so was pretending he'd been hallucinating all of this. He still felt hysterical, ashamed, even like he was beginning to lose his mind again. But he wasn't alone, he had Hannibal to drag through this strange world they’d ended up in.

"As I would have it," Hannibal replied quietly, hands still on Will's cheeks. He looked so human; so worn of his defences. And so glad to have someone like Will by his side in a feverish reality. Will wished he could see how deep his love was towards him all the time, even after they'd been through so much on this day. Hannibal's love was so fascinating; and it was fierce and delicate in equal measure and Will still couldn't comprehend  _how_.

And he ached for it. _Fuck everything, he ached for him so badly._

Without thinking, he connected his lips as fast as possible to Hannibal's sharp ones —just to feel a wave of hope lighten his decaying mind before this moment of clarity dissipated, because he couldn’t lose such a _perfect moment_ for something he'd regret later. He didn't expect to be met with softness. Or to feel his heart blossom into an anxious heartbeat, and the cascade of emotions wash his mind of any thoughts, sweeping his worries away miraculously with surprising strength.

He kissed Hannibal Lecter. Like he wanted to back on the cliff, or back when he expected one from the doctor at any moment. The touch of someone's lips never felt so right, and he'd been expecting it to feel so _wrong_. It felt like he’d plugged a wire from within him — electrifying his thoughts to a clear state, and making him feel less of a stranger in his body and new life. He didn't feel like a self-deceiving man kissing a wife he lied to, or a broken teacup searching for an anchor, he felt like this is what their design was all along, even before the fall and this very day. Hannibal kissed back with hesitance at first, before his frozen body warmed up to Will's caress. Even Will was left shocked by his own boldness, opening his mouth as soon as he took in Hannibal's tongue, sucking and nipping like he was being kissed for the first time. They weren’t aware of when they tilted their heads, or deepened their kiss; their lips touching tasted so forbidden, and so expected at the same time. Like the first bite of the first children of God of the devil's fruit. So sweet, so _intoxicating_. Moulding them to this new future with the sweetest poison they had.

"Hanni- _Oh_...!" Mischa's voice suddenly chirped in the living room, and by the sound of it, the woman must have been squeezing a squeal from passing her lips.

_Fuck._

Their lips instantly detached with a loud, wet sound, and it didn’t take long for Will to feel his whole face burn with embarrassment. Not only had he _kissed_ Hannibal, but was _caught_ doing so. How long he had been kissing him? He could still feel the doctor's taste in his mouth, still obnoxiously forbidden and sweet. Will didn't dare to face the doctor and see his lips still shining and red, begging to be kissed again; his skin crawled with goosebumps just at the thought of it.

"Oh... I ruined the mood, didn't I?" Mischa lamented, her smile fading with horror. " _Shit..."_

Will's obviously reddening face should've granted her an answer.

"Mischa, _the med kit_ ," Hannibal chided, breaking the awkward silence before Will could flee from the room. Embarrassment made him cower on the sofa and avoid looking anywhere near the doctor, but he could feel just by the tightness of his voice how their kiss affected him.

_The both of them, actually._

His heart still pounded in his chest when Mischa gingerly gave her brother a small white box, watching calloused hands take what they needed from the kit. Hannibal took no time cleaning his wound with gentle care —he'd always been so  _careful_ treating any of Will's injuries, and such a moment of intimacy felt much more intense compared to the last time the doctor cleaned his bloody knuckles, brought by Randall Tier's death. He could see professional fingers slightly shaking while examining his small wound, solely from emotion. Someone like Hannibal should have steady, surgeon hands, not trembling ones that gave out the doctor's hesitance. Will couldn't bring himself to raise his head and see how much he'd shattered Hannibal's mask, or if the man still desperately tried to keep it. All of his remaining courage had been drained by their kiss.

"The wound doesn't seem to need any stitches," Hannibal's voice trembled slightly as he spoke. "It isn't a big cut. Povidone-iodine and bandages should do."

"That's a fancy word for antiseptic," Mischa translated, giving Will an apologetic smile. Silence grew in the room after her comment, and in no time bandages were wrapped snugly on his hand, now slightly brown from the sticky substance Hannibal applied.

"I..." Will dry swallowed, still speechless from the kiss and the utterly _awkward_ moment after it. "T-Thanks," he finally murmured to the doctor, still avoiding his eyes.

If embarrassment killed, Will knew he'd be ashes by now.

"I'm... I'm going to tidy up the kitchen," Mischa stated with a firm nod, determined to leave the two of them before both recuperated from shock. Will's brain screamed at him t _o get up and leave_ , but his legs wouldn't cooperate. He stayed frozen on his spot, watching Mischa recede to the kitchen as rapidly as her feet could take her, leaving them alone for the second time.

And being alone with Hannibal _wasn't the best option_.

"I-I'll help her," Will blurted out, suddenly standing on shaking legs. He would've escaped from the living room if Hannibal's hand hadn't lunged for his wrist, holding him still. Will watched the doctor's fingers gently pull him closer, feeling the sweat under the rough skin dampen his own, until he sat back to the sofa with a small gasp. His heart was caught in his throat as he felt the doctor's hand roam from his wrist to his chin, thumb resting on the soft flesh, before elevating his downcast eyes to his. He was met with _passion_ ; Hannibal looked at him like he found God, his eyes wide and definitely glistening with unshed tears, showering Will with raw adoration. He suddenly couldn't breathe, couldn't _think_ — to be seen like this, like he was the sole reason the world was beautiful for the doctor; to be the light Hannibal's eyes shone with. His own eyes were wide open, not believing how someone could love him so _deeply_. Hannibal caressed his chin once more, still holding his gaze onto Will's, and held him until his mouth could form words again.

"Will..." He chanted his name like a prayer. Will couldn't stop himself from shaking at the doctor's tender touch, his eyes still glued to maroon ones. He wanted to regret kissing Hannibal so badly, and yet, he craved for the man's touch like a dying person craves forgiveness; he shouldn't be granted what his heart desires, and yet here he was, leaning on Hannibal's hand and closing his eyes in defeat. A part of him still wanted to believe this was wrong, that this second chance was _wrong_ , but feeling lost and alone would break him, he knew it. He wanted to argue against the option — scream out the last wisps of frustration from his body, and yell _why_ and _how_ could this happen to them at the face of this wicked God. How could his concept of the world itself change just by attempting to jump off a cliff, and how could Hannibal still love him even after _everything_.

It was maddening; completely unconventional. How could he feel so lost in a world where he didn't even know himself, and have Hannibal by his side.

Hannibal opened his mouth once more, his eyes frantically searching for something to say, but Will could see clearly that Hannibal, a man of many words and prone to never be speechless, had completely forgotten how to even speak. He only stared at Will, mouth opening and closing, _flabbergasted_. If his hand wasn't injured, Will wouldn't believe this was _real_.

"Will..." the doctor repeated, letting his other hand roam its way to Will's scarlet cheeks, resting them exactly where he did many years ago. Just beneath his skull, thumb caressing his skin and fingers brushing their way through dark curls. Will didn't lean into the touch, too occupied feeling goosebumps spread over his body, knowing too well the last time Hannibal touched him this way, he was met with a knife to his stomach. Yet, he didn't feel scared. He knew there was no motive for violence anymore. They were on equal ground, knowing there were no more secrets or lies, and everything they ever did — their whole lives, their whole _world_ — was probably sea foam by now. It still scared Will terribly; to not know what to expect, or to feel completely lost about his situation. But again, he wasn't the only one. Hannibal was with him.

"Are you going to keep repeating my name?" Will joked, giving Hannibal the best smile he could give after everything they'd been through. Hannibal obviously hadn't expected any cheeky replies, but _God_ , just _the way_ he smiled back to him had his heart fluttering to his chest.

"You... God, this... What did I ever do to _deserve this_?" Hannibal let a deep, breathless laugh take over him. Will laughed along with the man, taken back by the doctor's surprising reaction. Their sudden laughter somehow managed to take some of the tension between them, and in no time, Will couldn't tell if they were still laughing or crying. He let Hannibal kiss away his tears, not bothering to keep his defences up anymore, and cradle his face close; close enough to steal a few hesitant kisses.

They laughed because their situation, after all, the chances of having a family back, surviving a cliff fall, and being together, was crazy as it sounded.

And cried because they never thought they would love each other like this.

"You happened," he replied with a small, unsure kiss on the corner of Hannibal's lips, eyes still streaming tears. "You happened to me, and I happened to you. And _this_ happened to us." Hannibal caught his tears with his thumb.

"...We happened." the doctor concluded, nodding mostly to himself. Will ran a hand over sharp cheekbones, touching his face like he'd lose the doctor at any moment. They stayed silent for a brief moment, until Will broke the silence with a small, barely audible whisper.

"Please promise something to me."

Hannibal raised his eyes to Will's, giving permission for him to continue.

"Can you... Can you promise we are going to walk along through this together? Please promise me you won't let me... _fade_. I feel like I'm going to break anytime, Hannibal," Will's voice trembled. "I'm just... I'm so confused, and you're here, telling me I haven't gone... mad. Please, don't let me down." He pressed closer to the older man, voice and body still trembling weakly.

"Promise me we won't be playing any games — no lies, just... us. I-I can't do it if... if you don't truly show me that you'll not let me fade. Hannibal, _I'm tired_. And I've forgiven you, God, I've done everything to... t-to end this. Please, _please_ , don't... Don't let me go."

_Don't let us destroy each other again._

The same hands cradling his face raised his eyes to Hannibal's, and the fierceness he found there was enough to let one of his many worries lessen its grip on his throat.

"I promise, William."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make anyone cry? Because I made myself cry. Finally, the plot thickens! Let us have the hannigram we need now, huzzah! 
> 
>  
> 
> Good Readings!


	5. Helping each other out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will knew this was bound to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me 84 years to finish this goddamn smut chapter. I regret everything. Even my biology ramblings are weak now, because I WROTE THIS PIECE OF UTTER SIN 
> 
> I'm sorry mum, If you read this one day. It's the knots. I swear.

They, of course, had to return to the kitchen, sooner or later.

Hannibal's touch still lingered on Will's heated skin—like a reminder of his promise— when they finally collected their agitated thoughts and reminded themselves of Mischa's presence, knowing the woman still waited for them. Both returned to the kitchen in silence, afraid to break their fragile moment with words or sounds. Will still felt like he could _fade_ at any breath he took, even with his hand firmly grasping Hannibal's. He just couldn't bear the thought of letting go of his harbour to reality; be it blood or the doctor himself.

He felt a small squeeze on his uninjured hand when they were finally in front of the wood arch again; Hannibal's eyes trailed to his own with obvious worry — worrying if Will was truly okay. Nodding and squeezing the doctor's hand back, Will took a small breath and let his feet move from wood to pristine tiles. The first thing they noticed in the kitchen was Mischa's small frame over the sink, with her pudgy hands beneath the water scrubbing one of the last plates clean. She didn't bother to hide a knowing smirk when her blonde-pink head finally turned to them, but she stayed (thankfully) quiet.

_They had to keep moving on. Hannibal promised._

The kitchen still held an awkward atmosphere even when both men started drying the plates and putting the dishes in their respective cabinets, silently helping each other by passing clean plates for the other to dry, and waiting for anything to break the tense moments of housework. Will's head was starting to spin with the crude hesitation in the thick air. What good could they do, bluntly ignoring Mischa and their new change of plans? Silence was the best fuel for his growing anxiety, _of course_.

He'd been scrubbing a particularly stubborn stain on one of the pans — with unnecessary strength, as if he could take his stress out by rubbing the dirty kitchenware — when Mischa finally choked out a high-pitched sound, her soap coated hands flying to the air in defeat.

"You guys are the definition of an elephant in the room, you know." The woman's wide eyes scanned them in disbelief. "I get that I _may_ have seen you two kissing, but we- God, we shouldn't... We shouldn't be stuck in awkwardness again. We should help each other out."

"...You're right," Will pointed out after a few moments, sighing heavily. "We just... We just needed some time, Mischa."

He still needed it, but what better could he do than move on? He wouldn't let his mind fade so easily. Hannibal wouldn't let him, either. Not when their hands were still connected and their fall led them to open doors Will had been sure they'd never open.

Mischa nodded after seeing her brother's eyes on the both of them, silently agreeing with Will and easing her worries. She just wanted the best for them, awkwardness be damned. Will could see how the loss of her generous, selfless acts could've drained Hannibal's humanity — with her death, all kindness was spoiled by the foulness of the world, only leaving a hollowness behind. The world had spoiled rotten the only good in his life, ripped apart the illusion of generosity and humanity, because he'd never see his sister's kind heart beat with life ever again. And now there she was; looking lovely in her young adult days, with healthy skin — not eaten, not rotting and left for the maggots — and her fierce kindness, Mischa was _beautiful_ and a part of Hannibal the doctor himself had tried to destroy. She was Hannibal's touch of light, of hope. His little sister, who he'd done everything to protect and in the end, he had nothing left. Selfless, kind Mischa. Will could feel Hannibal's emotions build up every time his sister showed her pure colours, knowing that she was still the same way he remembered, but now grown up and being able to live a life she never had. A shiver ran down his spine of the thought of Mischa being taken away from Hannibal again, because he didn't know the doctor could handle that again.

He didn't know what would become of them.

"Oh... okay," Mischa responded, her hands fidgeting on her shirt. "I-I know it must be hard, you know. But I'm glad you two are communicating properly now." She gave them a optimistic smile, showing her dimples and _God,_ Hannibal had every right to feel proud to see Mischa be this bright young adult she was now. Her smile was warm, and it somehow relaxed both men. Hannibal, of course, gave her one of his rare genuine smiles in response, making Will blush just at the sight of it. Both siblings had similar smiles, and yet they were so different from each other: Hannibal was all sharp edges, from his pointy teeth to sharp cheekbones, giving a predatory impression to anyone under his watch; and then they had Mischa, with her soft, round features, so _different_ from her brother's, but still as remarkable. Will wouldn't believe years back — when the doctor was no more than a dangerous riddle for him — that the one who woke the monster out of Hannibal was no one other than this sweet, youthful woman by their feet.

She was dangerous, incredibly so. Mischa held the power to bend her kindness to wickedness in her brother's eyes; she was the true sacrificial lamb. While Will thought he was the lamb once, there was no one other than Mischa as the bloodied sacrifice, and with her death, the monster was born. Would it be dying now, or gasping in confusion, seeing its biggest fear alive and without any trace of spilt blood brought from those who died by its hand? Would it be wheezing for air on the floor now, in a puddle of its own blood, bleeding out like the ravenstag in Hannibal's kitchen?

Will could see it gasping out strangled breaths on the wooden floor by Hannibal's side, desperately clawing its skin off with sharp talons, shedding its coal skin on the crimson blood and mixing both colours to form an expanding puddle of what looked like molten lava. It looked terrified to lose control, but overall tired, much like the stag. Will knew it wouldn't be dead — a creature like Hannibal's would only die with the man himself — but it would get weaker and weaker, until the doctor could shape it again without Mischa's precious blood as the primary ingredient. It would lose much of its hunger, to a point it would be satiated much more quickly, and its form would bend to look less like a man and more like Will's stag by the time it bled out completely. He could already see feathery black fur sprouting from its bleeding hide, and talon-like hands turning into hard hooves by the second. His own stag offered a small huff by his side, looking anxious to see his new mate.

Anxious to see Hannibal's true form.

And he could see him now, giving Mischa his heart, with smiles Will never knew someone like Hannibal could produce. The monster and the man, together turning into something beautiful for their sacrificial lamb and sister. Will's heart was beating rapidly in his chest, his own smile starting to show just at the sight of the siblings together. Even in this mad world they ended up with, he wouldn't trade this moment for his sanity. _God_ , Hannibal never ceased to make him lose reason.

"Aw, Will, this is the first time you smiled today!" Mischa laughed, turning her shining eyes to the ex-profiler. Will tried to retrieve his frown back, but the corners of his lips didn't do more than twitch. He couldn't stop smiling with Hannibal looking like a child who just discovered Christmas was coming earlier this year. It was _impossible._

"He's blushing, oh my." The woman covered her own scarlet cheeks with her hands, showing off a surprised face to her brother. "C'mon, that's a hell of an achievement to gain after he's gone through his moody time. This is progress!"

He had to admit, Mischa could make any heart lighter as could her absence make a monster of the most unexpected soul. Now he knows how Hannibal must have missed her.

"Sure... You got me," Will remarked with a shaky giggle, looking at the Lecter siblings with warmth. He was glad, out of this huge mess they were in, Mischa was the first gift they had. She was the hope in Hannibal's eyes, after all.

The woman took a relieved breath in response, gingerly brushing her blonde bangs out of her eyes before adding;

"I'm glad we are just... Getting this situation to the better side of the road, you know? I —" Her voice was suddenly interrupted by a loud, impatient buzzing coming from her purse, startling the three of them simultaneously. Giving them a apologetic smile, she took no time in fishing her phone from the small bag, and answering the call. Her gaze on them clearly showed that this call couldn't be denied, but both men nodded in permission before Mischa could intervene.

"H-Hey there, Thomas!" Her voice quaked for a shallow moment, clearly louder than she expected to project. Both men simply watched. "Yeah, uh, I know I screwed up, okay? I-I was with my brother, and I just forgot the time and all, and,  _shit_... I'm sorry, Thomas." The voice on the line apparently didn't take no excuses, rumbling so loud even Will could hear snippets of _not again_ 's or _get here now_ over the speakers, making poor Mischa's smile break piece by piece. She ended the call with a brief "See you in fifteen minutes, okay?" before shoving her phone back in her purse and turning back to them with wide eyes.

"I... I totally forgot that I was supposed to stay here for just one hour," She deadpanned. " I mean, with everything that happened and well, so many things to clarify... _I'm sorry_." Her eyes became downcast, showing frustration shining behind her pale lashes.

"You need to go." Hannibal concluded, watching his sister's breath hitch at the sound of his voice. Will knew this would happen, sooner or later. Mischa's presence wouldn't last forever, even with both men needing her —  as confused as two insects roaming to a light bulb, ridiculously as it sounded. She wouldn't save them from their problems; She could help with many things, but it was foolish to rely on Mischa's guidance for something Will knew it had to be dealt alone with Hannibal. Mischa's life shouldn't be dragged to this madness with them —  she had a job, she was in her world.

And her boss, by the loud grunting he heard over the speakers, wanted her back to work. But seeing Hannibal's eyes actually turn into puppy ones over seeing his dear sister go back to her mundane life; like he'd be sending her away to hell or whatever he'd been thinking, left Will oddly speechless. Sure, he also felt hesitant of letting Mischa go, not looking forward to what came next, but they couldn't sulk around like children and hug the woman's legs, begging her not to leave. He's pretty sure Hannibal would also notice their rather petty attempts to hang onto his sister for the sake of guidance, but the doctor didn't even bothered to hide a sad glint in his eyes; If he didn't know better, he'd say Hannibal was trying to be a drama queen. But of course, Will stayed silent.

"Don't look at me like that, and don't try hiding it back." Mischa pouted at the doctor, her crossed arms tight around her chest. Of course Mischa was able to read Hannibal. The man's defences such as manipulation and his flaws such as the small, rare cracks on his mask were pretty much proved useless in a single day, much for Will's hidden amusement. It felt good to see someone as confident as Hannibal being shown that his flawless masks were all crystal clear to his dear, smart sister. And manipulation, his preferred weapon, was wiped out of the game in the first seconds they met her. It was tragically amusing.

Hannibal's answer was pressing his lips into a thin line, clearly taken back by his sister's wits. It didn't take long for him to recompose the blank mask he'd been trying to wear, in attempt to preserve some of his pride. Will didn't need to use his empathy to know how bareness must feel terrible for the man. He knew the consequences of seeing it —  once a smiling scar across his belly was now a reminder of Hannibal's deadly self and shame —  for giving Will what no one could ever see. There were no scars now, but he still felt it throb through soft cotton of his shirt, dully stabbing his insides but causing no more than discomfort.

In fact, if he hadn't been relating Hannibal's emotions and the consequences that came along with it, he'd actually believe his lower belly was... aching. Enough to make him frown lightly, like a persistent cramp, making him ignore the sibling's ongoing interaction and discreetly press a hand onto his belly. He didn't pay no mind to the ache, knowing too well how the wound would normally grant him phantom pains, even back when his existence had some sense in it. He lost the track of the days he spent feeling the smiling scar throb painfully under his hand, be it back in Wolf trap or when he'd been staying with Molly. Oh, the _wonders_ a scar given by Hannibal could give him, he thought sarcastically.

When he focused back to the Lecter siblings, Mischa's saddened gaze on him clearly showed she had to leave at this very moment. Hannibal, in the other hand, looked stiff and oddly calm. The ex-profiler nodded at the woman, who looked as lost as them. Before they headed to the main entrance, Hannibal's slightly shaken voice interrupted their silent walk, sounding small, even for his standards.

"Before you leave, can I ask what do you work with?" Mischa gave him a smile, looking happy to see her brother asking about her personal life.

"I actually work on a small design studio near my apartment, but this thing I'm working on right now — more of a part time job, really, is playing for a chamber orchestra led by this buddy of mine, Thomas."

Will watched Hannibal's expression soften, eyes still admiring the woman and now; to know she'd been part of nothing more than an _orchestra_ , playing an instrument, couldn't make him more prouder. She died too young to show any musical talent, and now here she is — an aspiring musician. Will was almost sure Hannibal would end up tearing up again.

"I-It's the violin, before you ask." Mischa chirped out of the blue, saving Hannibal's upcoming (and inevitably emotional) questionnaire. The man nodded weakly after a few timeless seconds, looking completely taken back to know such information many wouldn't get _this_ emotional with. It hardly surprised Will, knowing how Hannibal gave value to anything beautiful, and music was one of the primary categories. That was one of the first things he learned about the doctor, and the one that he hardly forgot over the years. If he ever forgot something about Hannibal at all.

Because he'd be furious with himself if he did, now that he could at least come to terms with the turmoil inside his chest. As much his mind had been flooded with fear over this day, his hand was still firmly grasped with Hannibal's. He wouldn't be letting it go now.

He was too scared to do so.

"Since when...?" Hannibal asked. "Since when you're..."

"Almost fifteen years now." The woman answered softly, blushing lightly when Hannibal's face lit up in surprise.  

"That's... impressive." Will couldn't help to comment. He briefly wondered what was Mischa's current age —  she still looked incredibly young, and guessing by his own appearance and the fewer white stripes on Hannibal's hair and stubble, his guesses could be easily wrong. Maybe she was on her late twenties, or thirties, but what could he know about how the world works here? He squeezed Hannibal's hand in a shallow attempt to abide his growing anxiety. He had to stay focused.

"Thanks...! I-uh, I've been trying my best." Mischa hid her blushing cheeks with her hands. "I'm... Ah, Hanni, come here."

Will barely took knowledge of Hannibal's odd silence after Mischa revealed her many years of musical study. She squeezed her brother onto a compassionate hug, whispering quickly in Lithuanian for Hannibal's ears only. He couldn't see much of the doctor's face over the woman's thick hair, but Will was almost sure the man's mask was again cracking. Mischa's words were replied by another stream of rushed Lithuanian, now from the doctor's own shaky voice, and even if Will couldn't understand a single word muttered by the sibling pair, he knew it he had no business in it. He was starting to feel awfully nosy every time Hannibal and Mischa had their moments. _Really._

 He actually found the idea of admiring the crisp white walls was a way more suitable option than starting at a clearly personal moment between brother and sister. They didn't deserve to have a moment like this ruined by him hogging over them. It didn't take long for Mischa to leave Hannibal's arms and tell them if they needed her help, she would be at their service. Her guidance would be much appreciated, but they, again, couldn't rely on the woman to show them their new beginning. Will wouldn't lie to himself anymore. This had to be dealt the way they started it; he and Hannibal, alone, with their monsters by their sides. Mischa wasn't an asset — he wouldn't dare to utter such words towards her — but a ray of hope on their dark field of confusion Will wouldn't dare to lose himself in. His hand quickly found Hannibal's again when the doctor stood next to him for the second time, and both listened to Mischa tell them over and over again how everything would be fine. He knew behind all her optimism, the girl was also scared for them, and for her own self. She wasn't naive, no, she was headstrong. Similar to Hannibal, actually; knowing too well how the man could be determined to get what he wanted. Will didn't know if Mischa also relied with patience and perseverance like her brother, but one thing was clear: Will had never known someone as stubborn as Hannibal and Mischa Lecter.

The house sounded awfully silent after the woman took her leave, leaving them to a thickening atmosphere; filling Will's lungs like the sea water he expected so much to swallow. He still held his grip on Hannibal's hand as tight as he could, feeling the skin under his fingers begin to dampen with sweat. They let the seconds grow, still standing still by the front door, until Will heard Hannibal take a deep breath, followed by a small squeeze on his hand.

"We... I..." Even the doctor couldn't find words to start whatever they were going to do next. It terrified Will to know even Hannibal couldn't find a way to keep going — to keep them from losing the small grip of reality they gained. They were alone now, in a unfamiliar house, next to unfamiliar memories and in a totally unfamiliar world. And there was no denial anymore, no mind tricks or illusions.

This was... What they had now. 

"I'm... I'm really glad out of everything we've been through, you gained your sister back, Hannibal." Will found himself saying, no doubt meaning every word he uttered at the doctor. He was yet hesitant to know how her return could've changed the man; but even then, he wouldn't trade his smile away for nothing. After everything they've been through, Hannibal deserved to see his sister one more time, be it in another world or not.

"You've no idea how your words mean to me, dear Will." Hannibal responded silently, taking Will's hand to a firmer grip and crossing their fingers together. The ex-profiler didn't need to look at Hannibal's eyes to know the man was showering him with affection, and tearing up with emotion. When he finally brought his eyes up, Will gathered some confidence, but was not prepared to see again Hannibal's affectionate side burning into his very soul.

"I don't think I do, heck, I don't think I'll ever be able to feel love the way you do, Hannibal. Not in this... mess, and not in any world out there." Will let his bandaged hand trace over Hannibal's sharp cheeks. "But hell do I know what you make me go through, from madness to blood, and to this... this love, this _aching_ , you make me feel every day. Fuck... I may never know what your definition of love is, or how we came up with this situation, but one thing that I know is that I'm not letting this go. Whatever comes next, fuck it, my definition of love is to follow it." 

He expected Hannibal to pull him for a kiss the moment he said those words — admitting that he loved the man back, in his own, hushed way. Their kiss wasn't fervid nor desperate; they kissed slowly, tentatively, so softly that Will couldn't hold a small moan thrive from his lips. Will didn't know how long they (again) stood between curious dogs and few uninterested cats on the main hall, kissing for all the years they spent far from each other — compensating all the time they wasted in their dangerous seduction with careful, languid kisses, letting their tongues tease and their breaths collide on shining lips. Hannibal kisses felt like a remedy to his wounded heart and soul,  same kisses he'd never have if their fate in the ocean had happened. And even if the small, screaming part of his mind still told him he had so much more to worry about, to be afraid of his new body, he felt safe with Hannibal.

The man promised. He wouldn't let him fade, and Will would, for the first time, follow his heart.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He didn't expect to fall asleep. While Will left Hannibal to further expand their needed research, he let his bottled up frustration leave his head by leaning on the soft pillows of the sofa, not expecting a moment of silence to turn into a long nap. He woke up surrounded by dogs and clearly some cats over his feet; confused, he didn't recognise his surroundings, only to have realisation come back banging at his head in the form of a headache. He would've stood up and stretched his sleep numb limbs if Will was feeling more like himself, and not throbbing uncomfortably, feeling awfully cranky all over again. His eyes suddenly widened when that  _god awful feeling_  gutted him again, shambling his recollected thoughts to growing panic. His legs automatically squeezed together in a frantic attempt to ease the emptiness off for the second time, using nothing but sheer pressure, only to be met with the feeling of slickness sliding through his underwear, sticky and utterly  _wrong_. 

It was happening again. His...  _heat_  was happening again and so were the thoughts of having Hannibal's dick inside him, taking him and this awful sensation of emptiness out of his body. And god, he was already spotting his arousal over his thin cotton shorts. His dick was aching, his body was aching, his head was aching, and the insane thought of taking Mischa's advice in and just finally giving up to this madness was growing out of the  _wrongs_  and going to the  _rights_ , because if he was to suffer from this, Hannibal could help him. Part of him still yelled frantically, asking if he should trust his new, freakish body at all, and let it cloud his thoughts with years of lust; the years he spent longing for Hannibal, curious to know if his bisexuality was still present, because all he could do, wanting or not, was to imagine himself next to the doctor, and the thought of erasing the lovers he had with Hannibal’s image was maddening. Toxic, really, in this state of mind now — to have Hannibal just for him, and tell all of this forsaken world to fuck off and let him have at least  _something_. 

He was so afraid to even move, or do anything, that Will almost didn't realise Hannibal was roaming behind the sofa, but the scent, that fucking scent — of musk and warmth, so distinctly  _Hannibal's_ , wouldn't just pass through his nose when his body was craving so much for it. He held himself together, feeling his face flush when the doctor stood wide eyed at his side, looking as nervous as he felt. 

In that brink moment of lucidness, Will realised how bad their situation was. He hadn't even seen his new... parts, and yet he didn't hesitate to shove Hannibal's fingers up there not long ago. He should be mortified beyond words, to know what he'd done and what he was going to do — he was a man, for crying out loud. Men didn't feel wet when they were aroused, that was not  _right_ , and here he was trying to ignore it all and just grab this chance of doing something he would regret later. As much as he was still scared, his heart and... biology just spoke louder, and with arousal clouding his thoughts, the idea of having a quick go and feeling the emptiness be substituted with Hannibal's dick was much,  _much_  more reliable. 

People back from the dead, surviving cliff falls, admitting his love to Hannibal... He was tired of fighting. If this bloody universe wanted him to have sex with the doctor, he would. There was no point in denying what his body was now. The part of him that wanted to fight would come to terms with his decision later.

"Hannibal..." Will's voice sounded horribly hoarse, from both arousal and sleep, and he couldn't help but shudder when he noticed Hannibal was also being affected by him. The line of his cock couldn't be more apparent in the sweatpants he was wearing. He dry swallowed once, twice, eyes not daring to leave the wonderful sight of the man's arousal. As much as Will wanted to be embarrassed, or terribly afraid, he could already feel his last lucid thoughts dissolve into lust.

"Will --" Hannibal's words sent shivers down Will's spine. He approached the doctor, his hands trembling and his chest heaving, and squeezed his eyes shut. He opened them after a heavy sigh escaped his lips.

"Just... just let go. We came this far. Please..."

_Please, just do what we both want. What we both crave._

_Please let go and finish this game._

Hannibal took a sharp intake of air, his hands clutching Will’s own sweaty ones. He understood. Hannibal always did, in the end.

One of the doctor's broad hands travelled up to his face, thumb caressing from his damp, flustered skin to his dry, quivering lips. Hannibal then traced his thumb towards his mouth, pausing once or twice, as if he'd been mapping every inch of the man's skin.

_Let me kiss you._

Will knew the doctor begged him for allowance. Whatever came next, Hannibal wouldn't do anything without his consent. And it was almost like the place his scar once resided throbbed, as if he'd been cut open again. Will knew that he was the one who could mark skin now.

And he was the one who connected their lips together. Hannibal seemed to have frozen on his spot, taken aback by Will's boldness. He made sure he kissed slowly at first, pulling and suckling Hannibal's lips, showing his acceptance like a siren calls for a sailor. He felt just like one now. He wasn't sure when he started slowly swaying his hips, and how his hands found their way to the man's scalp. Will let his body do the work.

Hannibal's mouth opened as soon as Will pulled his hair, tongue instantly making its way to his own. Their kiss was different from the first one. There was now hunger and lust -- filling every inch of his mind, fervent and _maddening_ \-- each time Hannibal dug his tongue into his mouth and let them lose grip over themselves.  

He wasn't sure when his body was lowered to the broad sofa (scaring some cats out of the way as he plopped to the soft surface), or how his legs found their way to Hannibal's hips, caging the man to him with unnecessary strength. God, Will didn't remember the last time he was so _desperate_ for sex. He groaned when he felt Hannibal's erection poke his thigh, instantly grinding his hips harder to the man's groin. There was too much clothing barring their skin, and Will's sweat was starting to pool on his neck. He felt like a frenzied thing somehow -- clawing his way to sex, even though he was definitively sure half of his lust was just him, and not his heat -- and wasn't startled when Hannibal raised his head to breathe, wide eyed and flushed beyond imagination.

Their desperation was definitely theirs only.

"Will, are you sure? We --"

He was sure Hannibal meant to say they shouldn't have sex in the middle of the living room, with the windows opened and the animals watching, but now, after all they've been through, Will couldn't care less.

"For fuck's sake, yes. Now take your pants off, _now_ ," he groaned, taking his own shirt off. He felt glad to have his torso free from the clothes’ confines, but as soon as his own fingers brushed their way to his briefs, he stopped.

"Will..." Hannibal's own breathing sped up, and even though their lust was still very much present, both didn't know that sex could be _like this_.

"I can't _._ " Will's own voice sounded weak. " I... Fuck, you're the one that touched it. I can't... You do this."

"Will, please, are you sure? We can stop, this is --"

"For fuck’s sake, I'm not dealing with this alone. We're stuck with... with _this_ now! I feel like hell, and I fucking _ache_. Please... Please do it. For both of us."

Hannibal nodded -- gosh, he'd forgotten how Hannibal looked good without a shirt, and his scent, never once relevant to him, intoxicated his lungs to the point of madness. Everything felt so _right_ , even when the doctor slid his boxers off of his hips, and carefully took in the sight of Will's erect cock and slick smeared cheeks. He immediately closed his thighs, feeling his face burn with embarrassment.

_...This was a bad idea. This has always been a bad idea. How did he let Hannibal get between his legs, after what happened to his body? What was wrong with his own fucking self?!_

Will opened his mouth to protest, even though his lower body seemed thrilled to be getting the attention it needed. His attempts were cut short with a kiss -- deep enough to leave him light-headed -- and by Hannibal's delicate touch. He breathed in, letting the doctor's musk calm his rapidly beating heart, and trailed his mouth to the man's neck, where he could taste the salty skin. Slowly, he let his legs lay next to the other man's body, opening his trembling thighs hesitantly, and let Hannibal trail kisses down his neck to where his scar once resided. The doctor seemed to pause as soon as his tongue met the soft, unscarred skin, but trailed further down without lingering there. There was no way they could linger in the past now.

And he let go. He let go from the last strings of lucidness -- of doubting his own existence, lettingthis ache to be filled with nothing but _Hannibal_ be the only thing in his mind -- and took what his own body deeply needed.

He couldn't care less anymore. He'd let go if everything told him to do so.

Hannibal's mouth continued wandering to his crotch, passing his navel and then to his throbbing cock, where he took his time in licking the dripping head. Will immediately groaned out a half-broken moan, hands finding their way to Hannibal's greying hair. He could barely watch the doctor’s head bobbing up and down while his cock disappeared into those sharp lips; he felt his ferocious lust come back to his very core, burning him like fire as it tainted his desperately aching body.

"Down - go down Hannibal, god, _please_...!" His shaking fingers pulled the man's mouth off his throbbing cock, and pushed desperately down, where his body ached to be touched. Hannibal didn't hesitate to fulfil his bold wish, and started licking his way to the most vulnerable part of Will. The first touch of Hannibal's tongue left him gasping between a scream and moan, his fingers trembling between the man's locks.

_Oh._

"Oh my god...!" His mind was blank -- everything seemed to have _stopped_ ,  even fucking time itself -- when he finally felt the swipe of Hannibal's tongue on his slick opening. He dragged a long, shocked moan from his throat, and pressed Hannibal's head further between his thighs. It felt like nothing he'd ever done before. His body screamed in delight, taking in the feeling of finally having something touching him there -- and it felt so good, God, he was _lost_ in this foreign pleasure brought by Hannibal's presence and by his body receiving what he _craved_ for.

And he wanted more. His vision blurred at the thought of having Hannibal inside him, because it felt _right_ , it felt right just like this was meant to happen.

"Hannibal! Ah - please, inside... Ah...!"

Hannibal immediately lifted his head from Will's inner thighs, mouth shining clear with slick and chest heaving; taking the younger man's scent in such a way it had Will moaning hesitantly.

He looked as bad as Will. In fact, both were a fucking mess.

They locked eyes before fiddling their way to a comfortable position, and Will yelped as soon as he felt Hannibal adjusting his cock to his slick entrance. The doctor paused, letting the tip nudge and tease, and watched Will writhe impatiently below him.

"Will..."

"Yes, _yes_... Please, fuck me. God, come here..." Will guided Hannibal's lips towards his, not yet touching but enough to feel their breaths collide. He didn't need his empathy to know how much this meant to Hannibal, even here, in this different world. But he knew how he loved him. Even after everything.

Their kiss meant all he had to say, and before he realised, Hannibal pushed the head in, making Will let out a sharp moan between the man's lips. He wasn't ready to feel the sensation of _fullness_ touch him in a way that left him gasping for air, making his mind spiral in delight to finally have this aching turned into raw, overwhelming pleasure. The pleasant burning from the stretch left him speechless, and he couldn't help but look down to see where he and Hannibal were connected.

The sight both terrified and delighted him.

"Holy shit _... Hooooooly shit_." Will's eyes scanned Hannibal's, looking for some kind of guidance, but he couldn't help but clutch Hannibal's cock inside him, and moan in surprise at how _good_ that felt.

" _Hannibal..._ " he muttered, pushing his hips to the man's erection, and letting it slide in with a gasp. Both men moaned as they started a pace, letting their hands roam every inch of skin they could find, pulling and dragging their nails on flushed flesh. Will let his arms snake around Hannibal's back, letting the other man perform quick, deep thrusts.

"You're so beautiful, Will, so..." He kept on muttering, letting his head rest over Will's ear, sending goosebumps all over his sweaty skin. Each thrust sent him over and over to the edge, feeling his very inside throbbing in pleasure while his heat-drunk eyes opened and closed shut. It was different from any sensation he’d ever felt before -- nothing was ever this satisfying, this _overwhelming_ \-- he couldn't but moan as he felt the pleasure building with each erratic thrust.

He'd lose time itself if Hannibal continued thrusting deeper and faster, not wasting any chance to kiss every inch of Will's hot skin and let the man sob moans out.

"Hannibal...! Oh, _oh my fucking god_ ," Will moaned when Hannibal bent his body closer to the sofa, pushing in as deep as he could, and let a strangled growl out. Will instantly lifted up his head when he felt something _big_ grow in him, pulling his sensitive rim agonisingly fast with Hannibal's constant thrusts. He pushed Hannibal's shoulders even though his own orgasm neared completion, and stared at his equally confused lover.

"W-what... Ah _, what's going_ \--" He couldn't finish the sentence as he felt it brush roughly over one of his sensitive spots, making him choke out a strangled moan and see white as his orgasm finally took over his trembling body. He dug his nails into Hannibal's back while he sobbed, overwhelmed to feel the flesh within him grow, stretching him to another wave of pleasure. Hannibal's own moans sounded broken, and his hips barely fluttered. Will soon felt warm cum fill his insides, followed by the doctor's loud grunts and few shallow thrusts. What was locking him with the doctor prevented both men from detangling their bodies, and with his own orgasm cooling down, he couldn't help but grunt out a shocked yelp.

"What the fuck?! P-pull it out, Hannibal!"

"I... I can't. It... I'm _stuck_ \--" Will ignored the man's protests, and pulled his hips away from the doctor's, only to cry out in pain when the man's penis hardly budged out.

"What?! N-no fucking way, _ow...!"_ He growled, getting his hand between his legs and gripping the other man's cock. Both grunted when he finally managed to slid the shaft out, letting cum trickle down his cheeks. Silence quickly filled the room while they took deep, shaking breaths, both not knowing what to do or say. Hannibal took his time examining what locked them together, watching the slick shining knot deflate between his fingers. Will roughly pushed the man out of his legs before he could open his mouth.

"What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Of course something like this would fucking happen. _What were we thinking?!_ " Will ran a shaking hand through his hair, stumbling out of the sofa without looking back. His whole body began quivering as he stepped away from the living room, doing his best to ignore Hannibal's distraught calls echoing over the empty house.

"William, Will, _please!"_

"Just leave me alone! Fucking hell - T-This is... I gotta think. I..." His voice died before he could ramble any other excuse. One of the dogs poked their wet nose on one of his legs, probably sensing his agitation, and he realised he'd been standing naked in the middle of the corridor.

Because of course he forgot to pick up his clothes.

"Fuck." Cursing, he dashed back to the living room, promptly pushing Hannibal's half-naked bulk out of the way in search of his boxer briefs.

"Can we talk, at least? Will, you're being very childish _again_. Please," the doctor pleaded, choosing to stay away from Will's fumbling movements as a form of protection.

"I'm _not_ childish. I'm just trying to dress myself," Will spat with a displeased hum, and took no time dressing back in his now sweaty pyjamas. He sighed when his body was fully covered, even though the damage was done.

"I... I was just spooked. Fuck, this... This is crazy. Everything that happened after I decided to seek your help because of the Dragon has been fucking crazy. Everything that has _you_ involved turns crazy," Will croaked. "But god, what else would I expect? This -- This was a mistake. I... I need to, uh, think. I..."

He couldn't finish the sentence, and with a small sob, Will exited the living room, locking himself in the nearest place -- any place, anywhere he could just _hide_ \-- he could find. Finding his way to the bathroom, he felt his back touch cold tiles as he slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands and letting a long, tired sigh escape his lips.

_He had sex with Hannibal. Hannibal fucked him. Hannibal fucked his new body. They got tied together because Hannibal's dick grew a fucking knot. Hannibal made love to him. They finally ended up making love, after years of nothing but hurt and betrayal. He, in the end, ended up in Hannibal's arms, like it was meant to be._

_And it felt so good._

"God..." Will wiped his eyes and let his fingers run back to his messy curls, brushing his scalp _. Everything was so different_. He was scared, sweaty, and had cum trickling down his thighs. He wanted to blame someone, anyone, be it Hannibal or the world itself, but he couldn't. He had to go on, and whatever happened with them, he had to let it happen now.

He sighed again, wiping his eyes for the second time, and rested his head on the cold tiles of the walls. His heat had subsided for now (he could feel it, somehow) and his racing heart was slowly beating back to its normal speed. In the end, Mischa was right. Hannibal's presence did, in fact, help him. To know that his partner -- his... _mate_ \-- waited for him outside gave him a sense of ease, and knowing that Hannibal was as confused as him also made him feel better about their situation.

But he also knew what _happened_ was, and is, totally avoidable. He just wanted it so fucking badly. Not for the heat, not for the lust... He just wanted to. Something inside him reminded him that this was something bound to happen somehow, not because of the consequences of heat, no. It was... planned, it _felt_ like he planned to have this.

It felt like his other self -- who he couldn't tell if he began to _blur_ into him, he didn't _know_ \-- wanted this. He wanted this for some reason.

A shudder ran down his spine. _This day was a mess._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trash. And yes, Will managed to pull the knot out. He's our superhero.


End file.
